


Something Ends, Something Begins

by Zachanariel



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Character, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, LGBTQ Character, Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Insert, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 60,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zachanariel/pseuds/Zachanariel
Summary: [Translation] After her death, Hitomi woke up in a world where conflicts were resolved by torrents of fire and rivers of lightning. As a baby, she decided to use the time she had to draw plans and pray that she would come through all that shit alive and in one piece. One could dream, after all. And if she had a chance to make Danzô go fuck himself in the Land of Rainbows, save some lives and give some asses the good kick they deserved... Well, it was all good, right? Right.
Comments: 118
Kudos: 274
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts, NarutoStories, Reincarnation and Transmigration





	1. Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Quelque chose s'achève, quelque chose commence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731715) by [Zachanariel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zachanariel/pseuds/Zachanariel). 



> Hi! I’m Zachanariel, a Belgian, French speaking author. No, don’t go, don’t go, okay? This translation is probably not the best work you’ll read, grammar and spelling-wise, but I assure you I’m trying my best. I love this fanfic so much I decided to translate it myself (I’m the original writer) after previous attempts from friends failed due to the sheer length of this story. In French, it’s 875k words long. And I love every single one of them.  
> You’ll have to be aware, too, that even though this is a self-insert of sorts (Hitomi is more like a harder version of myself, and certainly not a better one), I decided to change parts of the canon that I didn’t like. Mostly the senseis’ ages (except for Kakashi) and a lot of details. Just bear with me on this one and trust me. I did a lot of research; I just decided to tweak and expand the universe. I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that you’ll love this work as much as I do.  
> Please leave comments, be it to explain a point of the English grammar I don’t seem to grasp quite yet, or to gush endlessly about Hitomi and her friends. I will be there either way. Please know, though, that I don’t need critics. This story is long done, I’m not rewriting it, just translating it. If you really don’t like it, don’t lose your precious time by telling me so. All others, I’ll welcome gladly in the comment section.  
> I love you all already,  
> Zachanariel.  
> PS: I’m trying to go for one chapter a week, but I don’t know if I’ll manage it as well as I did in French.

It was amidst chaos and noise – weak, muffled, but noise nonetheless – that she regained consciousness. Her last memory was of a hospital bed with a stiff mattress and abrasive blanket, never enough to keep her warm, as well as a high-pitched, never ending sound, both dissolving slowly into a mild, soft obscurity. Her last surge of consciousness before that still soaked her distressed soul, a numbing mix of regrets and despair. She hadn’t done anything really bad during her life, but nothing really good was born from her hands either. She had been one of these bland, countless souls that wandered through life without purpose or will, without hope or radiance.

And she regretted it. She regretted it so much… She hadn’t left anyone thinking about her, wouldn’t stay in anyone’s memory. In that respect at least she was unusual, but what a sad irregularity it was. She knew that, within a few years, she would only be a name on a damaged tombstone, surrounded by others that were covered in flowers and love.

She died alone, as she knew she would, in a little hospital bedroom reserved for dying patients – of course, they never used such words here. Her only friends had been a laptop, loyal to the end, and an e-reader she would have liked to use more often. They would probably be seized by the government to try to pay her hospital bill, since she had no parent, nor child or lover. She didn’t know and couldn’t bring herself to care. But still, it hurt, in an ethereal way.

At the very last moment before closing her eyes, that blurred and tired moment engraved in her mind forever, she had used her last conscious thought to beg for another chance. She had never believed in God or other deities . Wars of faith had always seemed so vain to her. And yet there she was, pleading for something she didn’t quite understand, to an unknown and all-powerful entity. And yet, there she was, her wish granted.

She didn’t understand what was happening around her, the noises still so muffled that they mingled together in her ears, an agitation that she felt only because it made the air move around her body. She couldn’t see, and her sense of smell was all messed up as well.

The hands were the first thing she recognised – or rather their touch on her, their warm skin, their calluses smothered by time, and their size… their unnerving enormous size, the way they picked her up like she weighed nothing and had become minuscule. Startled, she opened her mouth to speak, but only a long, long cry escaped her lips. She could only stop to breathe, and then cry some more.

And then the hands placed her on something soft, something warm and safe and right. The feeling was so striking it appeased the cries ringing in and out of her. The same instinct that had made her scream now made her let out a different noise , an animal keening sound full of satisfaction. One of her legs twitched, and then…

Sleep, at last, came to her like a blessing, as if she had just run an impossible marathon.

It took her a stupidly long time –  _ months _ – to understand what had happened to her. She’d never thought it was possible. For her, reincarnation was just fiction. But wasn’t it what she had begged for, in a way? Wasn’t this a sign that this higher entity, whatever they were, had heard her last and only prayer, and had decided to give her another chance? One had to be careful while wishing something: sometimes, you got exactly what you had asked for, but in a way you hadn’t quite foreseen. There was always a pitfall.

And, for sure, she had  _ not _ foreseen reincarnation.

She appeared to have all her previous memories, a fact which came with its own inconveniences. The worst of them was certainly boredom. She was almost certain that babies, normal babies at least, didn’t know boredom. They didn’t know much at all, in fact . For her, boredom was a pain. She slept a whole lot, sure, but she still spent way too much time lying or half-sitting depending on her parent’s will, staring at a world still too blurry to be seen by her infant eyes. Her meals started and ended, each one similar to the one before, always right at the time she started to feel hungry. That probably meant she was well cared for. She hoped so, anyway.

Still, boredom couldn’t explain the feeling that had started to haunt her a few days after her birth. It felt like something was swarming under her skin relentlessly, pinching, tugging and tingling to no end. It would have driven her crazy if she hadn’t quickly realised that focusing on her previous life’s memories could help her manage and ignore the feeling. In a way, she had to direct all her thoughts on her memories and on filing them in a space she had started to create inside her mind, motivated by ennui and the terrible desire to flee that excruciating feeling eating under her skin.

Her mind, in a few months, had become a vast library, each memory a leather-bound book with a relevant title, all filed with loving care in shelves, then rows for a precise subject; the rows themselves were put together in sections by discipline, and for each very large theme – languages, fiction, sciences, personal life and such – she had built a floor. The tower climbed high in the fog of her own soul, already designed to welcome all the new themes that would overlook her life to come.

She had already possessed a wonderful memory in her previous life, able to stick to the tiniest details and never quite forgetting anything. She remembered being envied for it, as if being able to forget wasn’t an awesome advantage when someone tried to build meaningful relationships.  _ She _ couldn’t forget when she had been hurt. The resentment, anger and sadness laid festering in her mind, unable to leave. Each of the pardons she had given had been lies and, after some time, people realised it. She wasn’t good at putting something behind her – or leaving it there.

Now at last it was useful. When the mysterious itch was too strong, since she couldn’t make it go away, she scavenged deep in her Library for memories she hadn’t re-lived for a long time. Some things weren’t unpleasant, even in her flavourless life. She stayed there until sleep found her, telling herself the beginning of a novel she had once read, or re-seeing a beloved movie, like a lullaby. It worked, to a point, but her skin was still haunted by this faint and irritating disruption. Her parents seemingly didn’t notice.

She had quickly left behind the weak and muffled hearing she had inherited by being born again. Sounds were sharp and clear now, and she was under the impression that her perceptions evolved sometimes, as if something in her brain had clicked. First, she had recognised her mother’s voice; she was the one talking to her most often, after all, even if the language was unknown to her at first. Her voice was soft, warm, emotions clearly displayed for her to hear despite the meaning of her words escaping her. Then it was her father and his deep voice, striking in spite of its rarity. Her instinct told her they were her parents, and it was confirmed when she started understanding the meaning behind their words.

She didn’t speak Japanese, but she had been very interested in manga and all that came with them. She had always wanted to learn this language, in her previous life, but had lacked will and focus, all alone in her hospital room. To whom would she have spoken, and about what, anyway? Maybe she had been called back to life in this family to be able to do so. Fortunately, her exposure to the japanese language in her previous life through anime had allowed her to learn some basic words and she quickly sought her Library to refresh them in her mind.

A few weeks after getting back her hearing, she understood her name, Hitomi. She didn’t know what it meant but remembered that, in the Japanese culture, the name’s meaning was as important as the kanji used to write it. She couldn’t wait to see it, to learn it. Would it be something pretty, something that would show her parents’ love for her even before she was born? She couldn’t help but hope it would.

After a few months in existence, Hitomi’s sight cleared enough that she could see her surroundings. She understood, then. She understood, like a punch in the gut, in what kind of deep shit she was. The higher entity was probably cackling like crazy right now. Sending her to a world where civilians were acceptable casualties and ninjas, the only ones to possess true power beside the Daimyō, could literally kill with a stare… That had to be a terrific joke.

Oh, how she had loved this manga. She had devoured it from the first to the last page, e-book copies instead of paper when she couldn’t have a lot of books to her name, after going to the hospital to one day die there. Naruto had been one of those stories to offer her little bubbles of oxygen, of happiness, to help her sleep at night, a smile on her lips even after she had truly understood that no one would ever come and see her, doctors and nurses excepted. The staff had welcomed her whim with an indulgent smile, and she had invested a lot of her voracious, starving feelings in its paper characters and ink voices. Yes, she had loved Naruto, as a manga.

But having to live in this world? _That_ was a disaster. When Hitomi saw the insignia on her dad’s forehead protector, the itch under her skin became fire and she started to scream, beyond breath or thought, so loud and long a taste of blood, unforgettable, bloomed in her throat. She heard her mother’s voice over her screams, the woman distressed and powerless to sooth her. She could only take her shivering body to the hospital, her screams gathering the on-duty ninjas who only gave way to more screams and fire inside her as the feeling grew, absolute and never-ending. Finally, she lost consciousness, exhausted by the sheer intensity of it.

Not a moment later, she shot through her Library, finding the floor and row where she had put everything she knew about Naruto. She extracted it from its place and put it in a new floor that became the main one. She renamed the row “canon knowledge” and started consulting every memory stocked there, so they would be as fresh as they could.

When Hitomi woke up, she had the seed of a plan. Her mother’s hand was on her forehead; the woman seemed so worried for her little girl. She was a beautiful woman, tall and slender, with black curly hair falling to the small of her back and stunning red eyes. Hitomi had never noticed the colour before she was able to see beyond the neonate blur. She only knew one woman with such eyes in this world. Kurenai Yūhi was her mother, which posed a problem – because Asuma Sarutobi was definitely not her father.

He didn’t smoke, for a start, and didn’t look like the character Hitomi knew from her previous life. She had only seen her face clearly once, before blacking out, but she  _ knew _ he couldn’t be Asuma. Kurenai looked strikingly like her ink-and-paper counterpart. Her voice was different from the one she had seen in the few anime episodes she had watched, as was her body language, but the basics were there.

“Boys!” she called. “She’s awake. You can come in, rather than pacing up and down the corridor and scaring the nurses half to death.”

Hitomi couldn’t stop the happy babble coming from her mouth in answer. Okay, she  _ really _ needed to start talking, and fast. At least now she understood most of the words she heard. Somehow, her gut told her learning to write wouldn’t be such a piece of cake. Perfect memory didn’t apply to muscles.

When her father came in, a man looking very much like him in tow, Hitomi forgot how to breathe. Because she  _ knew _ that other man. Tall and slender, his gait carefully relaxed, he wore his black hair in a short, spiky ponytail. His neat goatee accentuated his sharp features, as did the two scars barring his face. Over his Jōnin vest, he wore a deer coat she would have identified at the first glance.

Her father looked like a brother to Shikaku Nara. A brother. Shit. Shikaku Nara, tactical genius without peers in Konohagakure and probably in the whole fucking world, was her  _ uncle _ . She was in the deepest shit and it looked to her like each new discovery she made about her new life just kept digging in the shithole. Soon someone was going to tell her that Morino Fucking Ibiki would be her nanny for the night, and she wouldn’t even bat an eye, because she would already be in such a mound of shit that even that couldn’t make it worse.

She slapped her mind-self, already halfway in her Library. She certainly didn’t need to add panic attacks to the never-ending list of her problems, now, did she? She couldn’t tell if she would be fine, if it was for the best, but she wasn’t defenceless. She knew things people didn’t. Okay, she couldn’t throw lightning bolts or fireballs at will like some shinobi she knew about, but she had weapons. Knowledge was power, after all.


	2. The Kyūbi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL. I have good news: my editor and I agreed that we can afford to do twice a week updates. This story will have a new chapter every Tuesday and Friday! Please don't hesitate to leave comments and kudos, you can't begin to imagine how much they motivate me to translate my own story. Thank you for your support!

One night, as Hitomi was falling asleep after spending the day trying to learn how to speak rather than babble senselessly, a terrible feeling startled her fully awake. Since her ill spell after she had realised where she was, her voice had changed, gotten huskier and veiled because of the scar tissue around her vocal cords. The knowledge of that unique pain, of the taste of her own blood in her mouth, didn’t stop her from screaming in her crate against her mother’s bed, still empty. Wild, foul chakra burned against her skin.

She felt so much worse than she had been last time. This was not just her own chakra system trying to work; the other source stimulated hers, aggravating and stimulating it endlessly. She screamed and screamed in the dark, terrified, unable to stop or think, even for a moment. And yet, by doing so, she would have understood. This chakra could only belong to one entity around Konohagakure, after all.

She heard someone running and, suddenly, the bedroom’s door opened, yellow light pouring in from the corridor. Hitomi, despite her terror and pain, recognised one of her neighbours, a civilian working in a Nara pharmacy who sometimes babysat her when her parents were kept away. It wasn’t the first time the teenager helped herself in their home, so Hitomi didn’t worry about it, even though she would have liked to know why her mother wasn’t there. She was starting to think again.

She’d understand later, but as Anako the neighbour picked her up and started running outside, in Konoha’s streets, she could only contemplate the devastation far away, hear the noises of dozens of men and women fighting, dying, their chakra exploding powerlessly against the titan facing them. The Kyūbi was raiding the village and  _ she _ was screaming, terrified and decaying, body and mind on fire. Even her Library couldn’t help her this time.

Quickly, Anako reached the closest emergency hiding shelter with her precious, wailing bundle and, after giving their names to the sentinel, she sneaked in the narrow pass that would soon fade into the mountain. The shelter was full already, terrified civilians huddling in little groups where they could.

In the shelter, the itch from the monstrous chakra had lessened, but she could still feel it, and feel with it the chakras of all the defenders , outside. If she focused enough, she could even single out her parents from the huge energetic mess, but she refrained. She didn’t want to feel it if they died.

Somewhere between the house and the shelter, her screams had faded to tired sobs. She wasn’t the only one to cry: a civilian wearing the Uchiha fan embroidered on her clothes was soothing a sobbing infant. Everywhere Hitomi saw it, the despair that parents tried to hide so they could comfort and appease their young. They succeeded sometimes. Sometimes they did not.

Somewhere deep in Hitomi’s mind, a cold power awoke, analysing the situation. If the Kyūbi’s attack, happening not so long after the last war, could put the civilians in such a state of distress, what would it be when the canon would continue to unroll? She had, since her realisation, toyed with the idea of staying a civilian herself, protected from the danger and ordeals coming with a ninja life. But she didn’t want to feel this powerless ever again. She didn’t want her choices to be taken from her, didn’t want to wait in the dark for news of those who fought for her safety.

She had just one possibility left, then, barely safer or more reassuring: she had to follow, as soon as possible, the ninja way. She had to go to the Academy, to succeed in her studies, to become strong and then stronger. As strong as it was possible without dying, even. With that choice, she exposed herself to all the dangers she was aware of and then some, but at least she would never feel that powerless waiting in the dark again, would never be defenceless again. Danger would strike again, but she would be ready.

In the morning, the shelter’s door opened on two obviously high-ranking shinobi. Hitomi didn’t understand all the words they were using, but Anako did. The teenager stood up calmly, the baby secured in her arms, then left the shelter to go home with her. The streets were devastated, a mess of rubble and dust. Had the Kyūbi gone that far into the village’s defences? Some parts were in ruins now. Such a shame…

Hitomi’s house was still empty when Anako went in. All ninjas were probably in the hospital to treat their wounds, or in the Hokage’s office reporting their actions during the battle. Hiruzen was already back in his place. A surge of disdain went through Hitomi’s brain. She’d have to work on that, too. The child hated the silence hovering over the living room, as if life had frozen and waited for a signal to continue. She looked for her parents with anxious eyes, even though she knew they were not home. She felt it. Their chakra, which had become a reassuring strength for her, had grown cold and faint.

Her mother came home alone, far after the sun had reached its peak position in the sky. She was visibly exhausted and the skin around her eyes was red and puffy. As soon as she saw her baby, the young woman hid her face in her hands, nails still encrusted with blood and dirt, and started sobbing, prompting Hitomi to cry too. She understood, as much as she didn’t want to. Kurenai was home – Shikano wasn’t, and never would be again.

She’d always felt thorn between her infant body and her adult soul, but this time all her being cried for the father she had known less than a year and yet loved for his tenderness, his soft, deep voice, his huge hands and his laugh so lively it had made his whole body shake. She mourned with her mother the goatee that had tickled her and the smile powerful enough to light up a whole room, mourned the softening stare, the callused, patient fingers that had sculpted her toys, mourned the way he tucked her in at night and the last glance, so full of love, he always gave her mother before leaving the house for a mission. She mourned and cried until sleep, at last, fell over her.

Later, Hitomi awoke in Kurenai’s lap. Her mother was singing a soft, sorrowful lullaby, the melody a balm on the wounds left by Shikano Nara’s death. A loving father, a rightful son, a brave brother. The lullaby hadn’t awakened her, though. It was the knock at the door.

“Come in, Father,” Kurenai said.

This took Hitomi by surprise. She didn’t know her grandfather was still alive. He had never been in the manga, so she had supposed he was dead, like most shinobi of his generation, but there he was. She stared at him intently, scrutinizing the shoulder-long black hair under his forehead protector, worn as a bandana. His eyes were the Yūhi’s, red with an inner circle of deeper red, and he had scars all over his hands and throat. His face, though, only bore the marks of age and a hard shinobi life.

“I heard about Shikano. I’m so sorry.”

“You should have let me help him!” Kurenai spat. “It’s  _ your fault _ if none of my unit was on the frontline!”

“And what would have happened, then, Kurenai? What if the Nine Tails had killed you both? Did you think about what your daughter’s life would be without you? Don’t you think there are enough orphans after this night already?”

His angry tone made Hitomi moan anxiously. Adults didn’t shout often under this roof, Kurenai made sure of it. The mourning mother’s hard and angry stare softened as it went from her father to her daughter. The tenderness in her eyes mixed with a nameless suffering and loneliness, feelings so intense and raw Hitomi couldn’t quite grasp them. Ghosts were with her now, and they would never totally leave her. “You’re right, Father,” she answered after a short silence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you.”

“I don’t blame you. It was a difficult night.”

If she had been able to, Hitomi would have let out a joyless laugh at this bitter euphemism. A difficult night, yes, for the civilians who had left the shelters and helped clean the streets of the dozens of corpses that littered them before going home; a difficult night for kids who, like her, had lost a parent or, even worse, both of them; a difficult night for those who mourned a friend, a lover, a brother, a sister; a difficult night for the Uchiha Clan, which would suffer starting from today the consequences of a greedy, paranoid Councilman’s machinations.

But  _ she _ knew the real culprit behind the attack. She’d make him pay for the blood he had spilled senselessly, be it in the past, present or future. She’d make him pay by disturbing his plans every step of the way, by being the plague he could never get rid of nor identify. She’d make him pay, yes, until his sick soul devoured itself.

She didn’t have a plan yet, but it would come. Closing her eyes, she pretended to fall asleep in her mother’s warm embrace as she entered her Library. She walked deep into her mind and looked around. The shelves that didn’t concern the canon but all the other information she was learning about this new world were filling in slowly. It was hard to collect knowledge as a baby, after all.

Her determined pacing led her to the correct shelf, to the book labelled  _ Madara _ . Danzō was on her list, too, but she’d worry about him later. She had always liked the old phrasing “Know your enemy” and fully intended on applying it in this situation. But to the Founders, first. She didn’t have much on them, but what she possessed was enough already to start scheming. Her plan would be void of pity or morality, as Madara surely had neither of those. Whatever else she needed, be it intel or power, she had years left ahead of her to collect it. Silently, she started reading and plotting.

When she came back to her senses, night had fallen upon the village. She was settled in the baby carrier her mother had recently adjusted to her measurements, but it was her grandfather carrying her as Kurenai was busy cooking. The smell of food awoke Hitomi’s hunger each time someone cooked. She couldn’t wait to get past her milk stage. And nappies. Urgh.

All evening, Hitomi listened quietly while the adults spoke. She learned that the Uchiha Clan was well on its way to ostracization, a situation that would probably worsen during the days to come. The village was slowly rebuilding already, thanks to the shinobi adept at Earth Style ninjutsu. The service for those who had fallen during the attack would happen in two days, and all citizens were invited, ninjas and civilians alike. They had all lost loved ones, after all.

Soon enough, it was time for her to go to bed. She hated sleeping all day. At least she wasn’t bored half to death, but she wasn’t doing anything useful either. She far preferred strolling through her beloved Library. A new section had opened, full of Japanese vocabulary and grammar rules. She spent part of the night listening to the new words she had learnt until she could repeat them in the secret of her mind, since her body couldn’t quite do it yet. When the sun came back in the sky, she felt rested, and a little bit of her pain had eased away.


	3. Shōgi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I started a tumblr about my translation process. It will include diary entries, memes, aesthetics, playlists, fanarts and all that. The address for the blog is zachanarielwrite (.) tumblr (.) com  
> If you go see it, I hope you like it!

Until her third birthday, not much happened to Hitomi. She spent a lot of time with her mother, but also with her late father’s clan. Nara Shikaku had a son too, one year her junior, and the man often turned up in the middle of the night for advice before going home to repeat the good word to his own wife. It was fun to see him in such a state of disarray, his ponytail half hanging on his neck while trying so hard to look as dignified as he could, but Hitomi didn’t make fun of him.

He was her favourite uncle, after all, and not only because she needed him and his influence in her plan to make Danzō’s life as shitty as she possibly could. Yes, she  _ needed _ to be close to him, needed him to like her, but it wasn’t the reason she loved him to bits. He was kind, quiet, far from the lazy image he hid behind. And he was so clever! He had been the one to understand she was too advanced for her age. When Nara Yoshino, his wife, babysat the little girl for Kurenai, she made sure to teach her vocabulary beyond her expected level. Hitomi adored it.

She could walk and talk now, even if the two skills were still raw and difficult. Still, a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she felt much better. She was freer now, and yet she was safer too. She hadn’t learnt anything that would directly help her in her different schemes yet, but she collected all information preciously, without ever looking down upon any knowledge. You never knew when something would be useful, after all.

The day after Hitomi’s third birthday, Kurenai woke her up far earlier than usual. She wore a dark blue training outfit which fitted her perfectly, something the little girl had never seen her wear. When her mother helped her in similar clothes, she raised her eyebrows and waited until the kunoichi answered the unspoken question.

“There is a huge difference between civilian and clan-born children. Do you know which one?”

Hitomi nodded. “The clan-born children,” she answered in an assured voice, “are trained by their clan way before going to the Academy, while the civilian-born kids start from nothing when they decide to pick a shinobi career.”

“Exactly!” Kurenai beamed. “You may not know it yet, but you’re part of two clans, sweetheart: your father and uncle and cousin Shikamaru belong to the Nara Clan, and I’m part of the Yūhi clan, even if it is almost extinct.”

A smile appeared on Hitomi’s lips. “We begin training, then?” she pipped.

“You got it!”

Enthusiastic, Hitomi helped her mother as she got her ready then stayed still while her long, nimble hands tied her hair in the traditional Nara ponytail. Well, hers was too long to stay up in the rubber band, but she still loved to wear it. In her dark apparel, she looked like the idea most people had of a shinobi. A miniature version, but still.

The obedient young girl followed Kurenai outside. The woman stood in the centre of their garden, firmly settled on her feet. It was the beginning of November, but the air was mild in Konoha: no snow had been seen there for at least ten years, or at least it was the information Hitomi had gotten by listening to the grown-ups who had visited her mother during the last three years. Those visits were precious to Hitomi: she could use them to fill the section of her Library reserved for information about her new world, her new village.

“Let’s start, then. Copy my position, feet apart shoulder-width apart, back straight, arms along your flanks.”

Hitomi did as she was told. She knew this position well: before the hospital, she had been in a theatre club, and it was called the ‘standard position’ there. Despite that background, she realised that she had trouble taking the correct stance. Her brain remembered the instruction, but her body didn’t quite execute them. It took her three tries to get her feet correctly apart, and a full minute to stop fidgeting.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” complimented her mother. “Now, slowly extend your arms and raise them so your fingers draw a circle and join over your head, as high as you can.”

Guided by her mother’s sweet voice, Hitomi discovered what would now be her routine, every morning, before starting her day. Kurenai called the stretching exercise ‘greeting the sun’ and, indeed, it appeared while she taught it to her daughter. When they were done, Hitomi discovered with amazement that she only felt the healthy aches of a physical exercise well executed. All the pains that had haunted her previous body from childhood hadn’t followed her in her new life. She was free, at last.

After only a few weeks of that daily routine, Hitomi felt her body get better already: her young limbs were still malleable and, according to Kurenai, the more flexibility she acquired as a kid, the more she would be able to retain as an adult. Later, she could enhance her body’s abilities with chakra, but she needed a strong foundation to work with before that.

It wasn’t the only skill Kurenai had her work on. After all, she wouldn’t go back to active duty before Hitomi graduated. The little girl started learning endurance running and sprinting – both much more enjoyable now that she didn’t have to spit out her lungs after ten feet – and strength-building exercises. In the afternoon, Kurenai took her to the living room, made her sit in front of the coffee table and talked to her about the history of the Elemental Nations, about chakra, about Hidden Villages, about the Academy. She had obviously spoken with Shikaku; what she told Hitomi, she never repeated, and she made sure to interact with her rather than just teaching her.

Hitomi had never felt better. She learned so much every day, and yet it seemed to her she would always crave more, more knowledge and more new things to discover. Soon, bored by simply trying to draw what her mother taught her during their lessons, she decided to copy the kanji she saw on the spines of books in the living room. She couldn’t read them and she realised quickly that her fingers were far too clumsy to write correctly. As for strength, speed and flexibility, she just needed to work on it, so work she did.

Her daughter was almost four years old when Kurenai realised what, exactly, she was trying to do. She was trying to learn how to write all by herself; she proved then, probably without knowing it, how much Shikaku had been right about her. The young mother immediately took the matter in her own hands, so Hitomi wouldn’t adopt bad habits concerning the order of the strokes, and the girl learned to write, exactly as she had wanted.

It took her a few weeks to master the two kana syllabaries. Her memory was as good as ever, but her strokes lacked the natural elegance one could only achieve through practice. Then she was able to learn kanji. She already knew some, like the one she would see one day on Gaara’s forehead, but she had to learn how to form them, the order you were supposed to use to trace the strokes. It amused her and helped her relax, so she practiced an hour every night before going to bed.

With all those new skills, Hitomi gained in independence, too. With her strange chakra sickness, she had only been authorised to meet Shikamaru from amongst the clan children. Kurenai decided then that she was ready for others: Akimichi Chōji first, then Yamanaka Ino. She could only see them on the Nara lands, the only place in the village where the population density was low enough for her senses. She had to admit she liked the quiet Chōji a bit better, but she got along well with Ino too. One day, they would be part of Shikamaru’s team. Her cousin looked up to her, and so his two best friends imitated him. It felt good, to lead them through games and adventures in their part of the land. And, of course, Shikamaru was her favourite. Family always came first.

One evening, he knocked on her door overly excited, cradling a wooden box against his chest as if it were a treasure. His father was at the corner of the street and walked slowly, his gait flexible and lazy. Most often, he evoked a feline to Hitomi, indolent but dangerous. Anyway, Shikamaru’s excitement was of more interest for the girl, since she rarely saw her cousin in such a state. Without waiting for the adult, she let him in. Immediately, he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other door, which opened to the garden, mumbling he had something to show her.

He didn’t go to the grass, settling on the patio Shikano had built shortly before Hitomi was born. Behind the wall that separated the garden for the rest of the land, the sun was slowly ending his run across the sky. Its light stained the clouds with pink and orange shades. For a few seconds, Hitomi lost herself in that silent, colourful infinity, finding energy and calm in it.

“Come on!” Shikamaru called, making her focus on him again. “Sit in front of me.” As she obeyed, he set up something that looked like a chessboard without its black and white colours between them. Hitomi knew what it was: so, Shikaku had taught the rules of shōgi to his son…

“Your father talks about that game sometimes, he plays with the ANBU captains! Do you know how to play?”

“Yes, and I’ll show you, Hitomi-chan. My dad is a difficult opponent, I need someone closer to my level to progress.”

She nodded and, just like that, it was settled. He taught her the set-up rules as he put the pieces on the board, then the game’s rules through their first game. It was for that kind of intimate moments that Hitomi loved her cousin to bits. He never displayed boredom when she wanted to talk about something too complicated for their age and offered invaluable little beads of knowledge to add to her collection.

She lost her three first games. No doubt Shikamaru had already made progress by playing against his father. Like her, he soaked in other people’s knowledge, often without their notice. The fourth game was much, much longer. The sun had long settled under the horizon, and yet the outcome was still unclear. Before every single move, they both took the time to think and analyse the situation. Somewhere during the middlegame, Kurenai brought them blankets and hot cocoa, but they didn’t let the board out of their sight, even to drink.

Finally, Hitomi won by the skin of her teeth. She felt such euphoria that she let out a victorious cry and leaped to her feet, a surge of energy coursing through her body. Shikamaru looked at her proudly, a deeply satisfied smile on his thin lips. He had found  _ his _ opponent.

“We shouldn’t start a new game now. You still have to do your writing, right?”

“I know a lot of basic vocabulary now, so I focus more on reading. But you’re right. Mom was already nice to let me out so late.”

The two adults could be seen through the patio door, sitting on the couch and observing them while talking. They looked relaxed, content. With a happy sigh, Hitomi opened the door and went through it, her mug in hand and the blanket worn as a cape over her shoulders.

“Well, well,” Shikaku drawled with a tender smile, “didn’t take you too long to get it, kitty! A few years of training and maybe you and Shikamaru will manage to kick my ass.”

The girl answered that affirmation by snickering cheekily. She and Shikamaru were geniuses, yes, but so was Shikaku, and he had dozens of years of experience on them, no matter the field. They would probably never be his equal, and especially not in his specialty, strategy. It was perfect that way, in her opinion. Shikamaru followed her inside, his board carried in his arms like a precious baby, and the evening continued under that gentle atmosphere until it was time for the two kids to go to bed. Shikaku, who’d come pick up his son in the morning, would join his wife for a well-deserved one-on-one night.


	4. Nara Ensui

On Hitomi’s fifth birthday, a man who hadn’t been seen in the village for years appeared at the doors of the Nara land. He wore the Nara ponytail, his just too long to stay up in the air. His dark grey eyes were underlined by a streak of mossy green eyeliner, giving him a dangerous, wary look. If the stories were true, these two adjectives fully applied to him. His name was on everyone’s lips, the Nara civilian amassed on each side of the street without daring to put one foot on it.

Nara Ensui. Konoha’s Strangling Shadow. The only one daring enough to pay no respect to the Hokage, or even to ignore his orders sometimes – his way of showing that Hiruzen should never have accepted the hat back. That hat should have been Shikaku’s if you asked anyone in the Nara clan. He had never wanted it, true, but he would do it if someone asked. He was younger, fitter, and  _ he _ wouldn’t bend against the Council. Yes, Hitomi agreed. He’d be a better Hokage.

And she, too, looked as the strange man roamed the streets. She bore the itch from other people’s chakras better now, but this situation was her limit, and she almost never went to that part of the Nara land. If she hadn’t come to see Shikamaru, if Shikaku hadn’t thrown her a birthday party, she would have missed the return of the man that everyone, in the clan, seemed to respect so much.

“How troublesome,” Shikamaru pouted.

The young girl glanced at her cousin, surprised. “You don’t like him?”

“Don’t have any problem with him. It just sucks because I can already see Dad spending way too much time with him and I wanted him to show me how to throw shuriken.”

Hitomi nodded, understanding. Her mother had started to show her how to manipulate throwing weapons a few weeks earlier, deciding she was ready, but Shikamaru had always shown a lack of will in his preparation for the Academy. But that was it: just a show, nothing more. Shikaku always saw through his son’s game. Then again, Shikaku was the Jōnin Commander and the Nara Head. He was incredibly busy, and it was why he had planned on starting with his son close to when Hitomi, one year his senior, had started herself. He couldn’t train Shikamaru all day, every day. “Just come to my place one morning, Mom is teaching me. She won’t mind explaining stuff to you too.”

As they settled on a day for his visit, Nara Ensui faded to a mere silhouette at the end of the road. Storing away the invaluable little bits of information she had just acquired, Hitomi wrapped an arm around her cousin’s shoulder and convinced him to come with her to the Deer Forest. They didn’t see even a single animal from the herd, but they had fun, exactly as she had intended.

The next day, someone knocked at the door while Kurenai was away grocery shopping. In any other part of the village, a child would never open to a stranger, but in the heart of the Nara land, no one feared intruders. Because she knew that full well, Hitomi opened the door and was left with her mouth hanging open as she discovered Nara Ensui on the front step.

“I’m looking for your mom, kiddo. Is she home?”

“She’s at the marketplace, she should come back in twenty minutes. If you want, you can wait inside.” That scheme probably wasn’t her most subtle or clever. Hitomi, by welcoming the strange man into her house, hoped he would start talking and give her precious intel. On him, on the world beyond the village, anything would do.

When he accepted, she beamed at him and presented him with a pair of slippers that looked to be his size. While he switched footwear, she went through what her mother had taught her about welcoming guests and, as he settled in the living room, she brought him a tray where she had put homemade lemonade and a variety of biscuits. She was lucky everything she had needed wasn’t stored in the higher cupboards. Thanks to her merciless training regime, she had no trouble carrying the heavy weight.

“Thanks, kiddo,” Ensui said as she poured him a glass of lemonade. He had an amused smile on his lips, and probably saw right through her. Almost all Nara were geniuses, after all. Nodding with a polite smile, she sat on the ground in seiza, at the other side of the coffee table, all the while analysing the way he had settled on the couch, not quite a mess of limbs but not quite the correct, polite stance. All Nara, all the adults anyway, had that kind of quirk. It was weirdly cute – as much as that adjective applied to someone like Ensui.

“You look an awful lot like him, you know.” She stared at him, a question in her eyes, until he continued. “Shikano-kun. You look like him. I’m only a cousin, but his sensei was my shishou. I was his first ever student, so I often tagged along when he had missions with his Genin team. He was a good man.”

Most of the sadness Hitomi had felt when her father died was long gone, locked in a book in her Library. The bitterness, though, had lingered. She had just managed to tune it down enough to be able to pretend, in case she met with Danzō or anyone close to the ploy that had caused the Kyūbi’s attack. Still, hearing his name awoke all those feelings as fresh as the first day. She couldn’t forget.

“I’m happy that I look like him, Ensui-san. I don’t hear about him much, but I feel like he was indeed a very good man. I’ll do my best to uphold his memory.”

The man’s smile grew larger and Hitomi felt like she had said exactly the thing he wanted to hear. He crouched toward her over the table, extended an arm and gently patted her head. She pretended to frown when his long fingers made a mess of her hair, then pulled away laughing.

“So, kiddo. Shikaku tells me you play shōgi. Got a board somewhere?”

She nodded and went to fetch it from her bedroom. It was a beautiful thing, ornate with kanji and lovingly veneered, a gift from her uncle for her birthday the day earlier. She had barely used it for a few games against Shikamaru, who had never lost on purpose – he knew her well and respected her enough to offer her meaningful defeats and true victories. With the board in her arms, she went back to the living room.

Her movements were almost ceremonious as she settled the board on the table and opened the two little drawers carved into the board, where the pieces were stored. Silently, she and the man set up their side then started playing, only letting the board out of sight for a rare sip of lemonade.

It came almost immediately to Hitomi that her opponent was the strongest she had ever played against, even stronger than Shikaku, and probably the only man in the world to claim that feat. She drank at the source of his knowledge, to all the choices he made, her big red eyes fixated on the board as if it was the most enthralling novel she ever read. In a way, it was. The pieces were telling her a story: who lives, who dies, who wins, who loses. She felt her throat tighten with emotion at some moments. She lost, but she felt like she had won, deep inside.

“I see you play often against Shikamaru-kun and Shikaku.”

“Can you see that, Ensui-san?”

“Of course. Every player, after a while, grow their own style, influenced by those he fought the most, those who taught him to play. Maybe one day you will take after me, too.”

Hitomi nodded in understanding. It made sense. She had heard of similar things happening with chess players. So why not with shōgi too? The two games were awfully similar, after all. As she wondered about it, she set up the board for a new game.

They were in the middle of their third game when Kurenai came home. If she was surprised to see the Strangling Shadow, a lemonade in hand and slippers on his feet, on her couch, she didn’t show it. Without looking up – it was her turn – Hitomi greeted her mother, her mind totally focused on the game and her next move. She had no hope whatsoever to win against Ensui, but she owed him the best version of herself. She owed him that, just as she owed it to every single opponent she had, so their victory was fully deserved and her loss full of dignity.

“No need to beat around the bush,” Kurenai said as the game ended. “I know why you’re here, Ensui-san. Shikaku told me this morning.”

“I’ll get the kid home in one piece, Kurenai-san. You know I will. I take care of my team.”

“She’s not your team, for fuck’s sake, she’s just a child who hasn’t even set a foot at the Academy, and Shikaku decided without consulting me, just because he’s head of the Nara clan!”

This tone from her mother made Hitomi tense, for two reasons. First, she felt on her skin the whiff of killing intent oozing around Kurenai, so weak she probably didn’t even notice it happening, and second because she didn’t get angry often. Such outburst ought to be regarded with particular focus when they came from her.

“Listen, I know it’s not what you want,” Ensui tried, “but there’s no other way. If you want the girl to go to the Academy and become a kunoichi, she has to learn how to muffle her perceptions, and you know I’m an expert on this subject.”

Listening carefully, Hitomi glanced at the man, unable to hide her mix of wariness and interest. She had, of course, worried about the Academy and the rest of her career. She couldn’t stand even leaving the Nara land. She was lucky Kurenai had asked for the authorisation to stay after Shikano’s death. But leaving with that man, even if it implied going through the village to the main gates… Where did he even want to take her? It sounded like a weird, half-baked plan.

“I know!” Kurenai snapped. “I know all that, okay? Am I supposed to give you my only daughter without even fighting it? You don’t even know her!”

The argument continued for a few minutes that Hitomi used to hide in her Library and think about things. She didn’t know much about Ensui Nara, but there were advantages to his proposal. Well, it  _ had _ been accepted by Shikaku already, but she wanted it to feel like her choice, to be able to support it with sincerity. When she opened her eyes, she had reached a conclusion. She stood up, the two adults immediately focusing on her, and went to hug her mother.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the dress she was pressing her face against. “But it’s a big deal for me, to be able to go to the Academy in the best possible condition. Please, Mom, if going with Ensui-san can help me, let me go. Please.”

Mother and child exchanged a long look, full of promises and things left unsaid. Hitomi would have gladly died for Kurenai. She loved her unconditionally, and was loved back in the same way, something she had never known in her first life. She held onto the fabric of her dress and breathed in as deep as she could her mother’s unique scent, all the while focusing on the way her chakra, now at peace again, touched her skin. Without the killing intent, Hitomi only felt pressure and softness, strength and tenderness.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, my sweet baby… But you’re right. Go prepare a bag. You’ll be gone for more than a year, but I hope for him that Ensui-san will ensure you have everything you need, so just some clothing, your writing set, kunai and shuriken, and maybe one or two books. Got it?”

“More than a year? But I’m supposed to enter the Academy in April…”

“And what I’ll teach you,” Ensui interrupted, “needs far more time than six months to be fully taught. I’ll continue training you like your mother did, and then teach you some more things. When you go to the Academy, you’ll be one year older than your classmates, yes, but you’ll also be far stronger than they are. You’ll have no trouble being the best in your year.”

No trouble, no trouble… That meant she’d go to the Academy in Naruto’s year, and not Neji’s like she had thought initially. It would change some of her plans, facilitate them in fact. She would have less trouble being at the centre of the action that way. Feigning an annoyed sigh, she nodded and went to her room to do as she was told, leaving the logistics to the two adults.


	5. Outside The Village

The next morning, Hitomi and Ensui left the village just after dawn. He’d decided this whole trip would be a new learning experience for her, that it would do her good, and she could only agree with him. She couldn’t wait to discover the world the higher entity had given her for her second chance, couldn’t wait to understand more about the challenges other people faced, from the most powerful shinobi to the most peaceful civilian. Knowledge was power.

It was strange still to see the Gates for real. Going through the village had left her feverish, so sick Ensui had had to carry her, but she had been able to see them before he took her far enough from them that she could breathe again without feeling set on fire. Shikamaru had done his best to describe them and Chōji had drawn them for her but seeing them in all their glory was still something she couldn’t quite wrap her head around.

It was a mild autumn day. The tree leaves all around them were still mostly green, rare touches of yellow and red scattered here and there. The air still smelt of flowers blooming in the area. So close to the village, no one would have dared to disturb the peace and safety felt all around, almost as substantial as honey. It would have been a war declaration, and no one was mad enough to go against Konoha. Not yet, anyway.

“Why are you the one taking care of me, Ensui-san?” she asked after a while. “Yesterday, you hinted that you knew my… my problem well.” Even if her mother wasn’t there to chastise her, Hitomi still intended on being polite with the man who had taken her under his wing without any hope of reward beside Shikaku’s gratitude. The word around was that Ensui had more than his share of that already. This decision meant a huge dedication to their clan. Putting his career in hold for almost two years, just for a brat he didn’t know… Hitomi wasn’t sure she would have done it, and she was all the more thankful that  _ he _ did.

“Your condition is called Meridian Oversensitivity. That’s what your medical file says anyway – as your shishou, I was able to look through it.”

“How come you’re my shishou?”

“Er… We had to tell that to the Third so he’d let me take you out of the village before you graduated from the Academy. You don’t have to see me as your shishou, but I’m sure you’d make for one hell of an apprentice.”

Hitomi thought about it for a while, silent and focused on the road so she wouldn’t trip like a moron. She thought about the future, when the canon would really start to unroll and she’d need a reputation for some parts of her plan. Apprentice to the Strangling Shadow sounded like a good start, right? The kind of thing that would make someone think twice before attacking her.

“Ensui-shishou it will be, then. But wouldn’t it stop me from getting a sensei after graduating?”

“Only if your class had a number of students that couldn’t be perfectly divided by three. Then, I’d supervise you until you got promoted to Jōnin. But, even if you get a sensei, nothing will stop you from taking another shishou or coming back to me after you get promoted to Chūnin. It’s your career, your choice.”

“You don’t seem to have any doubt that I’ll graduate, then be promoted. How come?”

He shrugged then, after seeing the way she stared at him, he decided to explain. “You’re a Nara, daughter to two incredible shinobi, and your uncle says you’re as much a genius as his own son, which says a lot. I saw  _ his _ file, too, the kid has as much potential as his father had, and look where he is now. He could be entering the Academy now and rank first with no trouble.”

Hitomi giggled and nodded. They both knew Shikamaru would do his best to be a middling student at the Academy. He wasn’t interested in glory or power over his comrades, didn’t want to attract the teachers’ attention to himself. She was different. Girls needed to work twice as hard for the same result. Kunoichi needed to prove they were strong, and as one, she fully intended to do so. She wanted to be taken seriously, wanted to instil fear in her enemies’ hearts. For that, she would have to work incredibly hard.

“Now, to come back to your oversensitivity… I have the same thing. The sickness runs through our family and has done so as far as our records go. When I was born, I was diagnosed immediately – Tsunade-sama was there, you see, and she understood immediately. Everyone thought I couldn’t become a shinobi, but I wanted it so much. One day, when I was your age, a kunoichi came to my parents and took me away from the village, just as I did for you. When we came back, I was able to turn my sickness into a weapon, and so will you.”

Hitomi nodded, her eyes full of newfound respect. If he could do that… If he could allow her to go to the Academy, to become a ninja the normal way… She’d owe him everything. Even then, even when it was just them and he didn’t use his chakra, she felt it against her skin, itching and pinching it. Going through the village had been torture. Without him carrying her most of the time, she wouldn’t have managed.

“Will you teach me other things too, shishou?” A warm feeling pooled in her belly as she said the word, as she truly used it for the first time. Safety.

“Yes, but I don’t know what exactly quite yet. I need to observe you for that. When I know what your strengths are… Well, let’s just say I think you’ll like my areas of expertise.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue, her big red eyes full of a hunger he recognised immediately: the girl  _ wanted _ knowledge, was desperate for it even. She looked at him as if he was an oasis in the middle of the desert.

“First, there’s the Nara techniques, of course. Since you’re half-Yūhi, you probably have good chakra reserves, but you’re still a bit young to learn more than our opening technique. I’m also good at battlefield control, which means I’m probably going to teach you how to set traps and use chemicals to your advantage. It’s not overly difficult stuff, but I can assure you that even Sunajin puppeteers are jealous of some of my babies. Then, and that’s if you’re a really special girl, I’ll teach you fūinjutsu basics. Do you know what that word means? It’s…”

“Seal mastery!” she interrupted, almost shrieking in her enthusiasm. “Oh, I can’t believe it! I want to learn everything so, so much! When do we begin then?”

For the first time that day, Ensui started laughing, throwing his head back to free his intense amusement. The sound was so deep it seemed to come from far, far below, husky and soft like an ancient melody. “Ah, kid, you’re so freaking cute. We’ll see if you’re still so eager this afternoon, when we start training. You’ll probably end up hating me, but it’s still gonna be worth it.”

They continued chatting, about banalities mostly. Hitomi was quivering with impatience, which made her skip more than usual. Ensui, of course, had noticed the change in her behaviour and, internally, was increasingly overjoyed by the decision Shikaku had made. The clan head hadn’t lied about that kid. Of course, Ensui had already suspected as much while they were playing shōgi, but he was now sure that she was the type of apprentice he had always dreamt of. Of course, the Third had bitched about it when he’d seen the papers, but Ensui didn’t give the slightest fuck when it came to the old man’s opinion or feelings. How could he respect him? The man couldn’t even put a leash on Danzō. He should have had him executed after his betrayal, nothing less.

Shortly after noon, they arrived at an inn that offered bedding and meals to travellers. After a quick check through his meridians, Ensui was sure that he was the only shinobi around. He touched his apprentice’s back to make her go inside. They were now in a big room – inns were always big around villages. In a few days, they wouldn’t be able to find one, big or otherwise. Then, he would teach the girl to find shelter, food and water wherever she was. No one would dare say that Ensui Nara hadn’t done his job. This kid was gonna kick ass at the Academy, or he would swallow his eyeliner.

Their lunch was light and tasteful, just as Hitomi liked it. Since her mother left the physical part of training for the afternoon, she had gotten the habit of keeping her meal light before that. That way, if exertion made her puke, she wouldn’t be too sick.

After Ensui paid, they left the inn and walked for about a mile, then he told Hitomi to stop once more. They were in a nicely sized clearing, a fallen tree marking the centre. Flowers were everywhere, touches of white, pink and yellow in a sea of green. It was the kind of place Hitomi liked, quiet and fragrant. She usually only found that kind of peace in the Deer Forest.

“Well, time to start then,” he said. “First, I’m gonna test your writing and reading skills. Your mom would tear me a new one if I were to let her teaching slip. Take one of the books you packed and start reading.”

Hitomi did as she was told, her hands shaking slightly with anticipation. She took a big book from her bag, a strategy manual Shikaku had given to her as a starting point. Her voice stopping at the more complex kanjis she didn’t know yet, she started reading about the specifics of fighting on wet ground, after a few days of rain. Once or twice, Ensui corrected her on the meaning or pronunciation of words.

“You’re doing great, kid. And that book, a very good starting point. Shikaku’s pick?” She nodded. “Well, let’s get to writing, then. Take a notepad and a pen and sit where you can, I’m gonna dictate…”

He took the book, opened it at random and started describing the different uses someone could make of hallucination powder. Oh, Hitomi could see herself doing all sorts of wicked things with that. A grin on her face, she wrote the kanjis trying to respect the stroke order, but she had to leave some space for the ones she hadn’t seen before.

Ensui then tested her on the Land of Fire’s history. Rather than just asking questions, he participated in the exchange by adding clarifications and information she didn’t know about yet. After an hour, having spoken with him about medical procedures, strategy, and literature, she looked at him like he was a hero of the old times. Ensui noticed, of course, but he didn’t say anything. It felt good, having a child looking at him that way. He suddenly got why Shikaku almost kissed the ground his son walked on, if he was the same material as his little apprentice.

The physical part of the day was what Hitomi anticipated the most, waiting with a mix of apprehension and excitement. She didn’t need Ensui’s guidance as she greeted the sun, as she had learned it almost two years ago. Sometimes, Ensui asked if he could touch her to push her limbs harder, testing the limits of her flexibility, and she accepted every time, surprised he even asked. She had been manipulated a lot by doctors and nurses in her prior life.  _ They _ certainly never asked. They had mostly seen her as a broken thing that needed fixing.

After she was done greeting the sun, he carved a target on a tree and told her to throw some shuriken and kunai as close to the centre as she could. Hitomi wasn’t the prodigy Itachi was in that field, but she managed okay, and she had trained a lot. However, she didn’t put any weapon in the centre of the target. Ensui had to cheer her up so she didn’t brood on that perceived failure.

“I guess your mother hasn’t gotten you started on katas yet. They’re the base for all forms of taijutsu. I’ll teach you that, too. For that, I’d like to test your strength, speed and stamina. Start doing press-ups, please, as many as you can.”

Obedient as ever, she dropped into position and got started. She didn’t really like that kind of exercise, she found them to be boring. She had found something to fight that feeling though: she went in her Library and read a book selected at random. That way, she disconnected from her body, forgot all pains and aches, didn’t feel tired and kept pushing herself while also keeping busy. She always surpassed herself that way.

And she did it that day, too. She surpassed herself so much she couldn’t walk when the night fell on the Land of Fire. Ensui had to carry her back to the inn, but the only obvious emotion in his eyes was an intense form of satisfaction. In the span of time it took him to get them a room, the girl had fallen asleep in his arms. He climbed the stairs as smoothly as he could then decided to give her the only bed, tucking her in as he would his own child before settling on the ground.


	6. Training Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This comes a bit early because I have a class to teach in half an hour and won't be there at the usual posting time!

The next day, as promised, Ensui started to teach Hitomi. She woke up incredibly sore and couldn’t quite hide it, which made him give her a sorry look. However, he told her she was going to have to bear with it. Still, he didn’t intend on starting her on the physical part of training until the afternoon – Kurenai had explained how she did things with her daughter and Ensui had thought it was a good plan – he made her a hot water bottle with what they had in the room and showed her how to apply it to the worst aches in her body.

He set up a travel shōgi board on the table he had pushed against the bed and started teaching her about strategy while illustrating it with the game. They ended up playing a normal game where she got her ass properly kicked, but she acquired new moves Shikamaru probably didn’t know about. She couldn’t wait to give him a run for his money.

Then, he showed her the basics she’d need to know for battle chemistry. Hitomi already knew some of that thanks to her prior life, but she couldn’t really show him that without explaining how she knew. She settled for making him believe she just understood very quickly – and, in all fairness, it was already the case for the things she didn’t know about, so it didn’t shock him.

“If everything goes as planned,” Ensui promised, “I’ll let you try to blow up something on your own. It’s the most basic skill of battle chemistry and very efficient if your goal is to take control of the battlefield, be it during a one-on-one fight, in team configuration or during open battle. This knowledge wins war, Hitomi. It’s usually only taught in the Nara, Yamanaka and Akimichi clans, since we’re so closely tied. And even amongst us, not a lot of people master it, they want to focus more on common ninja arts, but since you’re an amazing little apprentice, I’ll make sure you don’t go down that road. Got it?”

“Got it!” she beamed.

The teaching lasted all morning, making Ensui stupidly happy. He had a hard time hiding it, even. He just wanted to go hug his clan leader, to thank him for giving him such a gem. The kid seemed tailored to receive all the knowledge he had to give her, and the pleasure to learn was as clear as day in her big red eyes, along with insatiable curiosity and eagerness to prove herself. She reminded him of the child he had been, once.

He would continue to teach while she attended the Academy and even later during her career. He’d sharpen her like he would his best blade, physically and mentally. She’d become the beautiful, terrifying kunoichi he could see in her. She’d look like her mother, perhaps with the more delicate features that all Nara had. The day she’d surpass him, he’d be so impossibly proud. He was already proud to see her devour all the technical chemical notions that were usually so hard on students. She was his first apprentice but he wasn’t entirely clueless as to how to teach her, since drunk Jōnin bitched about their own apprentices from time to time.

After a light meal, man and child paid then went outside, the room carefully locked just in case. Hitomi was still sore and limped slightly, but she knew it would have been far worse if Ensui hadn’t given her the hot water bottle. She hadn’t thought about that before, while training with her mother, but this was a trick she was definitely going to use again.

“We’re gonna stay a few days here,” Ensui said that evening, “so your body can adjust to be in the best conditions possible. When you can walk without problems in the morning, we’ll hit the road again. We’ll walk in the morning while going over theory stuff, then we’ll stop to get lunch and stay in whatever area we’re in for physical training. You’ll be working on reading and writing before you go to bed.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as she stretched. He had made her work hard that day, but she didn’t feel as exhausted as last night. Could her body be getting stronger already?

“Probably Suna. I want to show you chemicals drawn from stones you can only find there.”

She noticed he used the short version of the Village’s name, as he would for Konoha, but she didn’t say anything about it. She was too busy wrapping her head around all the things he was teaching her. She didn’t know that man well, and yet she’d felt honoured, yesterday, upon seeing the gleam of pride in his eyes. It was invigorating. She hadn’t thought about the eventuality of getting noticed by a powerful shinobi; she’d thought she’d get in a typical Genin team then advance on her own. How absurdly lucky she was, to have Ensui focusing on her.

As soon as they got to the clearing, serious business began. He made her run for twenty minutes so her muscles could warm up and take what he had planned for her. He had decided that the girl, first and foremost, needed to learn how to fight. He was feared, a shinobi no one in their right mind would fight without a good reason, but he knew anything could happen. Hitomi needed to be able to defend herself.

Katas, fighting moves used as a base to learn how to fight, were usually taught in the Academy from the third year up, Hitomi knew that. She had sometimes watched her mother do them to warm up and they looked easy then. As she tried the first move under Ensui’s watchful eyes, she tripped and fell face first in the grass. She stood back up with a groan and started again from the beginning, as he had ordered her to do if she made a mistake.

It took her an hour to master the opening stance, and her limbs didn’t move as gracefully as Ensui’s had, far from it. Her hands and feet, mostly, were still clumsy, and her balance was highly challenged as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. It was increasingly frustrating, but she comforted herself by focusing on the fact that she didn’t feel tired at all. Her body had never been this strong, this healthy. She knew she would succeed eventually. And knowing that felt wonderful.

The katas couldn’t be used in a real fight. They were too predictable, too common. But they were the working foundation for every shinobi: they used their favourite katas, modified and adapted to become suitable for battle. Ensui explained all that to her in a soft voice as he corrected her starting stance, his hands careful not to press too hard on hers. He probably knew that a prolonged touch would be painful for her sensitive meridians.

“It’s time now for me to help you work on your oversensitivity. There is no secret, unfortunately, no shortcut that could help you cope until you get it under control. You’ll have to meditate and create a box, hideout, cage, whatever comes to mind the fastest for you, and put the information given by your meridians there.” He sighed then continued. “After that, you’ll need to find out how to manage the opening of that place so you can receive information, but only enough that you’re aware of people around you without being overstimulated. No shinobi at my level or below can take me by surprise, but I’m not writhing in pain either. Got the difference?”

Hitomi nodded calmly. She understood the concept, better than he imagined. The exercise sounded very similar from what she had done with her Library, what she had had to do to automatise the sorting of new memories.

“Your mother said you were already meditating once a day. Show me the posture you use.”

Immediately, Hitomi sat in seiza, the traditional sitting position used by all traditional families in Konoha. She knew that, in the Previous World, this posture was well-known too, but she had never used it then. Shikaku had helped her practice until she got it right. Hands on her thighs, back straight and shoulders relaxed, she closed her eyes and stood at the very edge between her Library and the physical world. It was hard not to go in, to stay between two planes, where she could still focus on Ensui.

“Good. Now imagine the thing you want to use to contain those perceptions. Take what comes first to mind, and get it attached to your mind. This sickness is an advantage, Hitomi. You’ll treat it with the respect it deserves, no less.”

She obeyed him. She saw a cage, a beautiful, delicate thing, made in one block of crystal. As soon as she went inside her Library, she made a column out of marble in the centre of the rotunda around which she had organised her sections. It formed a light well and illuminated the whole place. There, she stopped and thought about what to do next. On the pillar that she had raised to waist-height, she built the cage she had in mind. She carved it with flowers and animals she loved, made sure the crystal captured light and refracted it all around in pretty rainbow colours. It took her an hour to make her vision reality.

In the crystal cage, she tried to put her meridian’s perceptions. It was incredibly complicated, because she didn’t know if she was transferring feelings or memories of those feelings. The line between those two concepts was thin and she didn’t know how to walk it, even after a few tries.

If this difficulty wasn’t enough, Hitomi started feeling a form of fatigue she had never felt before. Her thoughts were weirdly sluggish sometimes, like being stuck in honey, and her breathing was becoming more and more laborious. Her limbs were shaking and covered in cold sweat. Despite this, she didn’t stop trying, and she wanted to scream in frustration each time a book, a memory, appeared in the cage.

“Hitomi? Hitomi!”

She regained her senses in a start, her pupils extremely contracted in the centre of her red eyes. Ensui’s hands on her shoulders were gripping the joints painfully, but she realised he had no other choice: she would have fallen without his strength, her legs so weak they couldn’t even bear her weight. She shook in the mild evening air, coldness growing slowly inside her. Wherever she looked, it made her nauseous. “W-what’s happening to me?” she whined.

“You spent too much chakra. I’m sorry, kid, I didn’t know you could use it. Most children your age or even older can’t access their reserves.”

She answered with a wordless whine, her shaking getting worse after each passing second spent in that dreadful state. Ensui wrapped her in a blanket he had taken from his backpack, put all their stuff inside it instead then picked her up in his arms like she weighed nothing at all.

“You’re in for a dreadful night, I’m afraid. During the hardest parts of it, remember that everything will be better in the morning. I swear it will be, kid.”

She heard shame in his voice, and it frightened her. She tried to calm the chattering of her teeth by biting her lower lip, hard. She didn’t want to worry him more than he already was, but she could see from his weather-beaten face that it was already the case.

Once they were back in their room, he tucked her in with as much care as he possibly could then heated water up with a wisp of chakra so he could make her a hot water bottle. His dark grey eyes didn’t leave her for a moment. He was ready to act if she took a turn for the worse. He remembered the first time he had been in that situation: he had thought he was going to die but had survived, and learned his lesson. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts never to go through chakra withdrawal again, shinobi didn’t have much choice in the matter. There was always a good enough reason.

The night was difficult, just like Ensui had assured Hitomi it would be. After an hour, she had started to feel her limbs burn, a terrible pressure that made her want to lose consciousness. She muffled her cries of pain in her pillow, biting so hard she tore it apart. Ensui petted her hair, whispering comforting words and meaningless promises.

Then the nausea and vomiting started, leaving her exhausted and haggard. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she got a fever that gave her chills and vertigo, making her lose her grip on reality. She was so dependent on her knowledge and awareness to feel safe that she spent a lot of those hours sobbing, terrified and deaf to Ensui’s tender words.

The night was hard and long for both master and student. The sun rising in the sky found them both asleep, her between the half-undone sheets and him sitting on the ground, his back painfully bent so his head was on the mattress, the rest of his body on the ground. He snored weakly, his unkempt hair slightly moving each time he released a breath. One of his hands was reaching for Hitomi but not quite touching her, as if he had fallen asleep while trying to comfort her.

As he had promised, everything was better in the morning.


	7. The Caravan

After that mishap, Hitomi couldn’t continue her sensitivity-related training until her reserves were replenished. Children as young as she was weren’t supposed to be able to mix chakra or use it, Ensui explained, and even less to the point of exhaustion like she had. He listened very carefully as she told him about her Library, how it worked and how she had built it. When she was done, he sighed and shook his head, mumbling something about Yamanka bitching when they’d think he had stolen clan secrets to give them to her. Yeah right, as if she would ever be  _ that _ reckless. The Yamanaka were  _ telepaths _ , for fuck’s sake.

It was time for Hitomi to put the theory into practice with her chemicals. After a few tries, carefully supervised by her mentor, she succeeded in creating a nice, strong explosion, enough to shake the ground and make dozens of birds fly away in panic. At night, she consulted Ensui’s chemical notebook, where he wrote down all the formulas and procedures he used for his creations. The notebook was locked by a seal that used his chakra as a key, which she found absolutely fascinating.

She couldn’t grasp everything on those pages, far from it, but she still had a lot to learn in that field. Delayed reactions, doses, projections, … The possibilities were endless, and one day they would all be hers. The first step was just reading the notebook, as Ensui had instructed her: she just had to look at the pages to remember them for when she’d be ready.

Ensui made sure she’d seen it all before taking it back. “You won’t always have me around,” he said “when you want to make things go boom. That way you’ll have everything you need in your head, you’ll just need to find the chemicals for the situation.”

A week later, they left the inn behind and hit the road again. Their progress toward the Sunajin Desert was slow, but the weather was colder every night, a sign they were closing in on the border. The first night outside was difficult for Hitomi. She wasn’t used to that kind of temperature, to the hardness of the ground, to the thousand noises that kept her up all night. After that though, she did better.

“The first thing you need to know to survive outside is how to hunt. You can’t expect food to come to you nice and prepared just like in a village. Take your kunai and follow me.”

Hunting was not a problem for Hitomi, but skinning and gutting were another story. She couldn’t prevent her hands from shaking as she followed Ensui’s instructions, the rabbit’s dead eyes looking at her like they could still see her. She had to prepare dozens of preys before she could do it without hesitation. Each of the lives she took, even if they were just animals, made her heart a little colder, a little harder.

She had to be honest with herself: she needed this. It was one thing to plan violent acts and fights in the safety of her Library, and another one altogether to spill blood in real circumstances, to see pain and fear on some opponent’s face. Sometimes, they might even be kids, just like her.

When she stumbled while training, Ensui showed no mercy. He made her attack again and again, made her pitiless, even if she couldn’t hurt him; it was the spirit that mattered. And when night reached the cave he always managed to find to shelter them from the elements, he hugged her and cradled her until she stopped crying then fell asleep. When she had nightmares, he always woke her up and appeased her so she could get back to sleep.

After a few months, she had mastered all the basic Konohajin katas. To celebrate, he bought her a dark green outfit, nicely cut for fighting, the fabric breathing like nothing she had ever worn and tailored so she had plenty of room to move. He showed her how to tie her kunai pouch to the belt, then got her started on another set of katas only Nara used.

He sharpened her, like he would a weapon. Hitomi liked the idea. He didn’t coddle her, wasn’t afraid to push her just a bit harder. Every morning, she woke up stronger, harder, but, more importantly, she woke up more ready to face the opponents that she would drag back by the hair to face her if need be. They dared to be assholes, they couldn’t whine when they got trouble biting their ass back. Trouble being  _ her _ , of course.

After almost five months, they reached the edge of the Sunajin Desert. They had been slow, while Hitomi could walk fast for a child, she was no match for even civilian. She wasn’t a ninja yet, wasn’t even an Academy student. It frustrated her to no end, but Ensui always appeased her. They found a caravan, bound for the Desert and equipped to cross it. Those people were merchants, and not only from the Elemental Countries. They hired shinobi so they could be protected: bandits rarely dared to attack a protected caravan. This time, it was a team composed of two Genin, one Chūnin and a Jōnin to lead them. Obviously, they had a lot of experience as a team: they didn’t need to use words to coordinate their efforts and protect the caravane.

“Shishou?” Hitomi asked.

“Hm?”

“I think the Chūnin is a puppeteer.”

He groaned. “Please don’t go harass the man with questions, kid. We don’t need a diplomatic incident.”

With a pout, Hitomi took refuge under one of the tarpaulins protecting the goods from the sun. A ninja only needed a few days to reach Sunagakure from Konoha, but a caravan moved much slower, even slower than a walking civilian. They could only move during the early and late hours of the day, when the air was neither too hot nor too cold. The time spent moving, Ensui used to make Hitomi work on her meridians.

One day, while she was meditating under his ever-watchful eye, she felt something click in her mind, almost like a touch or the noise of a branch snapping under the pressure. This time, it wasn’t a book appearing in the crystal cage, but a ribbon cut from white light, flowing quietly above its floor.

She snapped out of her trance and fell on all four, trying to catch her breath. For the first time, people around her felt a bit faded. Not enough for her headache to disappear, but still, it was progress, she couldn’t deny it. Beaming, she stood up and looked at her mentor. “I think I’m starting to get it, shishou!”

He smiled too, unable to stop it. To hell with the empty face shinobi were supposed to wear in all circumstances, he couldn’t resist when she looked at him like that, so happy, so full of hope for the future. “Congrats, kid. You’ve done the hardest part. I’m very proud of you.”

She froze, her eyes staring into his own, a red as rich as wine against dark, quiet grey. After a few seconds, she understood how much he meant it, the strength he put in those words, the dignity, the righteousness, the faith. He didn’t know any other way to get them out and she wondered. She wondered if she really deserved them. After all, she was good at fooling people, lying, manipulating her way into their heart with the sweetest smile. But she hadn’t done anything like that to Ensui. She wanted to be worthy of him.

Her progress had been a temporary fix, unfortunately. Sometime in the middle of the night, she woke up with a start as the light ribbon slipped away from its cage and faded away. Ensui was up, as if he knew it would happen. He probably knew, since he’d been through that well before her. She was exhausted – in her case, it seemed that keeping her oversensitivity at bay had to involve using chakra. Yet she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Wrapped in her blanket, she went to join her mentor, who was reading a scroll. “Shishou?”

He answered the question she hadn’t asked, shifting sideway on his futon so she could sit with him and read too. Fascinated, Hitomi stared at the elegant strokes of black on the cream paper. She identified a seal structure, but she didn’t know which one. It was magnificent, so complex it would make any calligrapher pale with jealousy, and her palms tingled with the desire to be the next one drawing it.

“You remember the day when we left Konoha? I told you I’d teach you some fūinjutsu. I’m not a Master like the Sannin or the late Fourth Hokage, but I have some skills, which is more than can be said of almost everyone in the whole world. This knowledge is on the verge of disappearing, and we don’t ever teach it to people who wouldn’t be good at it. I think you’re gonna do great in this field with your memory, kid. Since you’re awake, we can start right now.”

Her eyes shining with adoration, the little girl nodded so vigorously her neck protested. She didn’t care about this kind of pain, not when fūinjutsu was on the table. Since the day he had mentioned the topic, she was obsessed with it. What she knew about the art of seals made it look insanely powerful and the idea of endless possibilities was enticing to her. Imagining herself with such a flexible tool satisfied something deep and dark in her mind.

Whispering so they wouldn’t bother the other sleepers around, Ensui started explaining the basics of seal drawing. Every seal had an outer and an inner circle written with modified kanjis all connected to each other and almost impossible to decipher if one didn’t have the knowledge of the language used to write them. You couldn’t allow the brush to leave the paper even for a moment as you traced them, and the seal would be activable as soon as both circles would be connected, its function hidden in plain sight. Then there were the ornaments, between two and a hundred chains linking to two circles togethers, their number and complexity an indicator of how much power the seal could draw from its surroundings and rely upon. Those ornaments had to be equally spaced or the seal would become unstable and often dangerous. Finally, in the space left between the ornaments, the seal master added characters that looked like simplified kanjis and would define how the seal behaved: how much chakra the user needed to inject, the self-timer if the seal needed one, the area of effect, its shape, … The possibilities were truly endless.

For example, for a storage seal, she would have to trace the two circles using kanjis that could be roughly translated as ‘I store and release at will’, then add enough ornaments for the volume of storage needed. The finishing touch was adding precisions as to the place relative to the seal where things would appear or disappear – two manipulations that needed different characters. It got even more complex if the seal master wanted a precise storage place for each object, so they wouldn’t end up buried in a mountain of clutter each time they wanted one precise item.

Fūinjutsu was rarely an innate skill and, even when a shinobi had such a gift, they had to work precisely and repeatedly to master even the simplest seal. The special ink used to draw them, infused with chakra at least, was only produced in the Fire Temple. Any seal had the potential to fail catastrophically if mistakes were made in its conception. Fortunately, they all needed chakra to be activated, so it was possible to train without blowing up something by accident.

Hitomi was fascinated. Her left hand, the dominant one, almost twitched with impatience. Her whole body called for those yet unknown sensations, the sound of the brush against paper, the heady smell of ink, as if something deep in her knew what it would feel like. If Ensui noticed the urge running through her, he didn’t say. Was he, too, captivated by the seal he was looking at? Did he feel like he instinctively understood  _ how _ it was drawn, and did he feel the need to lose himself in seal mastery? She couldn’t tell.

The sun was rising when he finished his explanations. He didn’t need to tell Hitomi to get up, she was already jumping on the ground. Her movements slow and steady, a thousand times more at ease than she had been even a year earlier, she started greeting the sun under the amused stare of some of the civilians, used now to her strange behaviour. In the afternoon, when they couldn’t continue traveling, they often sat in a circle around her as she fought against Chiki, one of the Genin the caravan had hired for protection. He had agreed to help her in her training: against him, she could practice her katas and try to adapt them to her future fighting style.

Sometimes, more rarely, she fought against Ensui or Takano, the Jōnin leader of the team, but it was like trying to break a mountain with a blade of grass. Despite this, she was learning, no matter who her opponent was. She also saw the foreign shinobi, or even the civilians when she took the time to look at what they were doing, tense under her focused and voracious stare. Were they afraid she would steal the secrets hidden in their minds? She wasn’t a Yamanaka, for fuck’s sake.

Hitomi’s fighting skills were becoming really impressive for her age. She immersed herself in training without counting the hours or aches. Most of the time, it was Ensui who had to call it a day before she exhausted herself. She had already shown some worrying tendencies in that regard. This kind of instinct was great during a mission, but when she was just training? It was asking for trouble, and Ensui was worried.

The following days, she continued to work on her oversensitivity. She got better and better at it, but the ribbons always escaped their cage after a while. When she explained what she had created in her mind to her mentor, he assured her the space between the bars wasn’t the problem. The only way she would get them to stay there was by practicing again and again. With his constant support and because he never focused her on just one topic, she still felt good about herself.

And it paid off. Slowly, it paid off. In her master’s eyes, Hitomi saw a quiet kind of satisfaction, and it made her feel honoured, more than she could possibly say. When they weren’t training, they talked a lot about their personal lives. He told her about all the missions he had accomplished with her father, described the sensei they had had in common. As a sign of respect, he never toned down his tales: he knew that, like Shikamaru, she had been forced to grow up faster because of her intelligence. He was wrong about this, at least in part. She would have placed her life in his hands without hesitation, but she would never, ever tell anyone about reincarnating. Her safety depended on it.

Fortunately, because he was raising a genius himself and was used to their ways, Shikaku had never suspected a thing. When Kurenai had told him about the fact that Hitomi had tried to learn how to write all by herself, Shikaku had just taken her to have her IQ, and other parameters she hadn’t understood, tested. Those had declared her Shikamaru’s equal. No, Shikaku didn’t know a thing about her previous life. He was just grateful when she pushed her cousin to do more than the bare minimum.

How was he doing back in Konoha? She missed him a lot, but at least he was surrounded by peers and friends from his clan, the Yamanaka, and the Akimichi. She only had Ensui. He was an adult, and she didn’t know him since he was born like she did Shikamaru. She really liked her mentor, but having him around wasn’t the same as having a friend, an equal.

The next day, an hour and a half after the end of their afternoon break, they got their first sight of Sunagakure. They walked the whole evening before really standing in front of its huge sandstone doors, then another hour before they could enter the city. Hitomi had quietly decided to watch and learn. Fortunately, her oversensitivity was manageable enough now that she could spend days without meditating to cage her meridians back in. Curious and giddy, she walked behind Ensui and waited until being given permission to go explore.


	8. Gaara

The next morning, Hitomi was allowed to explore, but she had to face the facts: she had devised dozens of plans for this place, and yet she had no fucking idea on where to start. As she left the hotel where Ensui had booked a suite for the entire month, she realised she was standing out, with her traveling outfit. A carefully innocent expression on her face, she reached a little street far away from the main ones then looked for what she needed.

On a clothesline, she found an outfit roughly fitting her size and looking like the one kids wore in this village. She took it and left a bit of money in its place before going to change in an alley and putting her previous clothes in her bag. She could have bought clothes, yes, but it was funnier to do it the ninja way.

Now that she was ready, she could start working on her main scheme for Sunagakure, the one she had not even dared dream of. Finding the Sunajin kids was easy: just like Shikamaru had said about Konoha, they played not so far from their Academy. She looked around but didn’t see the dark red hair she was looking for. A few boys tried to have her play ball with them but she refused with a playful laugh: she had better things to do than run after a fucking  _ ball _ , thank you very much.

She found him well away from the other kids, a torn ball at his feet. He looked so sad, so  _ small _ , Hitomi’s heart broke a bit as she approached him. She had done the math while on the road: at five years old, Gaara’s loneliness upset him, but no one had tried to kill him yet – no one had yet pushed him to a killing spree that would leave him scarred for life.

“Hi!” she chirped. “Can I sit with you?”

He jumped so hard when he heard her voice, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop her laugh. Obviously, Ensui’s lessons worked if she could take anyone by surprise.

“Y-you want to sit with me?”

Hitomi’s heart broke again, but she kept her feelings at bay. Taking a few steps toward him, she offered him her sweetest smile, the one that made people think she was harmless. She needed more smiles, and quick. “The others are too noisy for me. You look quiet and not too, ah, agitated, so I thought you’d be a better choice.”

Just like that, it was done. The first phase of her plan had been so simple to check off that it shocked Hitomi quite a bit, but not when she started really thinking about what was going on. Gaara was just a little boy, starving for any kind of affection, and he hadn’t yet learned to be wary of people his age. For a moment, she felt guilty about using his weaknesses to her own advantage, but she brushed that feeling off: she knew it was for the greater good.

“So you control sand, uh?” she asked half an hour later. “Do you think you could use it to make sculptures?”

“Doesn’t it f-frighten you?”

She shrugged. “I live in a clan where people control  _ shadows _ . Way scarier than sand, trust me! Can you make me a camel, please? I’ve never seen one and I’d really like to.”

The little boy nodded, his cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and Hitomi applauded when the sand did his bidding for her. It was so easy to play the affectionate little girl in this situation, although Ensui would have raised an eyebrow then died of laughter if he’d seen her act that way. Since it was what Gaara needed, though, she was happy to do it.

Soon, too soon, the sun started to set, throwing warm colours all over the sand. Sunagakure was a really beautiful village, even if the forced isolation had cost it a lot of luxuries and it showed. Compared to Konoha, this village wasn’t quite as developed, especially in the poorer areas. Hitomi reached to take Gaara’s hand, moving as quickly as she was used to, but his sand reacted without giving her time to back away, violently scratching her hand. She yelped and looked down to the angry red marks, where her skin was starting to bleed.

“O-oh no, I’m so sorry!” Gaara looked almost sick with worry and regret. His hands were shaking, and he seemed to be holding back tears. Hitomi’s heart hurt to see him like that. With her good hand, she touched his arm, careful this time not to startle him.

“It’s okay, Gaara-kun. Ensui-shishou will heal this in no time at all.”

“But I  _ hurt _ you!”

“And?” she shrugged. “You didn’t do it on purpose. My shishou did worse to me during training, and yet I know he cares for me, a lot. I’m not angry with you, Gaara-kun.”

“Gaara… Only Gaara, please. A-are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

Frowning slightly, she looked at her hand more closely. Sand had gotten in the deepest parts of the wound. “No, I’m okay, don’t worry. If you want, you can come to see Ensui-shishou with me. He’ll heal me and you’ll be able to see with your own eyes that it’s not a serious wound. What do you say?”

It wasn’t what she had planned, but she could adjust around this new development. This time, she made sure not to take Gaara by surprise as her hand found his. She answered his obvious surprise – he probably wasn’t touched often by anyone – with a soft, encouraging smile, then took him to the hotel where her mentor was waiting, thanking her awesome memory that helped her find her way.

Ensui was not pumped about her being wounded and gave Gaara a dirty look. As soon as she saw the child making himself cower, on the brink of tears, Hitomi stepped in, giving Ensui one of her own stares. She looked almost defiant, her delicate features as calm as the night sky despite the difference of strength between them. “It’s not Gaara’s fault. No one taught him how to control his powers. He’s my friends and I won’t let you scare him, shishou.” Her tone was still respectful but firm. She wouldn’t back down from this.

Her heart ached when she heard the little choking sound coming from behind her. She knew no one ever fought for Gaara; he only had an uncle who hated him and could barely hide it, two frightened siblings, and a father who saw him like a tool and nothing more. It only made Hitomi more certain that she wanted to be this person for him. She stood up a little taller, her eyes looking right at Ensui’s with all the righteousness she was capable of, as she made the little voice in her head saying she was no better shut up.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him.”

As Gaara still hid behind his apprentice’s back, the Jōnin sighed and crouched to their level, trying to reduce the danger he represented. It was hard for him, who was oozing a cold and quiet threat at all times without even trying. He didn’t really get why Hitomi was stepping in like that. She’d always accepted him and who he was. He understood a bit better when he looked at the boy, at the way she protected him.

He was important.

Ensui didn’t know in which way yet and wasn’t sure she would ever explain it to him. He had known from the very first day that his little apprentice left nothing to chance, a common trait amongst geniuses. Hell, he had been like that too. The Nara clan was full of manipulative people, himself included. He gladly left Hitomi toy with him, since she did whatever he asked, always. She was a good enough apprentice that he let her get away with it.

“Listen, Gaara-kun, right? I know children can play a bit rough sometimes. I’m not mad and I’d say Hitomi here isn’t either. Could you please take the sand out of her wound so I can close it?” He could have used a jutsu to do it, of course, but he thought it was important for the kid to participate in the fixing of his mistakes. He didn’t have a lot of experience with children – Hitomi didn’t really count – but it seemed like a nice principle. Once the wound was clean, he wrapped her hand in his, the gesture gentle and careful, then used a surge of minty chakra to mend her skin. It was just a scratch, really, but he felt better now that it had disappeared.

“So, I understand you have spent part of the day together. Please tell me about it. And Hitomi? I’d very much like to know where you put the clothes you left the hotel with.”

The little girl shrugged, trying her best to look guilty – her best wasn’t really good, her eyes were sparkling. She knew what she was doing, did everything for a reason, but he doubted he’d get the complete version of this one right now. After all, they had company, a little boy who followed her around like she was her hero. Ensui trusted her, though, and he had learned to be patient: she would tell him what he wanted to know.

“I just wanted to walk around the town without being noticed, that’s all. I took an outfit from someone who wasn’t looking, but I left money, so it doesn’t count as stealing.” She blushed under his inquisitive stare and even lowered her eyes to the carpet, looking embarrassed. Gaara was shaking his head, clearly astonished. He clearly couldn’t believe the audacity she was showing. “Well, after that, I found Gaara, all alone, and I decided to talk to him because he looked sad. His powers are awesome, shishou! He can command  _ sand _ . He made me animals that don’t exist in Konoha.”

“And your friend isn’t required to be somewhere at this time? Surely, his parents should be looking for him.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Gaara spoke. “I can go home whenever I want, sir.” He didn’t say why, but Hitomi signalled to Ensui and nodded in the direction of the window. At his suddenly thin lips, she knew he was probing the area with his meridians and had felt the presence on the roof of the building in front of their hotel. His eyes shone with comprehension for a second and he smiled at Gaara.

“Well, you can stay, then Gaara-kun. I don’t know what Hitomi has in mind for you, but I’m sure it implies…”

“Can you play shōgi, Gaara?”

“Shōgi, yes. I can see you have the situation under control, kid. I need to run an errand in town, I’ll be back early enough to order food. Do you want to stay for dinner, Gaara-kun?”

The child looked up to Ensui, adoration in his eyes. “C-can I?”

“Of course you can!” Hitomi reassured him as Ensui left the suite. “Now, about shōgi…” She taught him the rules then they started playing without caring about the time they spent on it. After a while, Ensui came back with a bag full of local dishes, and Gaara explained everything they were eating. The food was a bit spicy for Hitomi, but still good. The two children continued playing then, sometimes advised by the adult, who tried to stay impartial. Of course, Hitomi led, as she was used to the game, but Gaara was a clever little boy and he held his own.

Alas, it was quickly time for him to go. It was late and Hitomi needed her sleep. She had had a full day of freedom, but her mentor didn’t intend on letting her wander around during the month they would spend in Suna.

“If you want,” she said to Gaara as he prepared to leave, “you can come tomorrow morning. Ensui-shishou has booked a training room in the hotel, I’ll be there to fight and practice with my shuriken. Then, in the afternoon, he’s gonna give me a botanic lesson and make me work on my strokes. I’d like it even more if you were there.”

Gaara’s smile was so bright it had to hurt. Carefully, so she didn’t spook his sand, she came to him and hugged him, bidding him good night. Then, she went back to the little living room their suite had, where her mentor was waiting for her. Judging by his amused and yet impatient expression, he had questions.


	9. Pain

“You have things to explain, young lady.”

Obedient as ever, Hitomi went to sit in the chair in front of Ensui, not at all fooled by his playful, light tone. It was the first time they had a true suite, with its own bathroom, a bedroom for each and a living room. Hitomi wasn’t used to that kind of luxury, but she knew that any Jōnin worth their title could pay for something like this. Ensui had chosen such a place because they were going to spend four long weeks in Sunagakure. They had never spent more than three days in the same place since the week lost at the Konohajin inn, at the very beginning of their journey.

“First of all… The Kazekage’s son? Of all the kids you could pick as a friend, you chose the Kazekage’s youngest?” She nodded, not even trying to deny she had targeted the war chief’s son on purpose. Since Ensui didn’t look like he wanted to tear her a new one, she explained.

“I heard other kids talking about him. Brats, really. I knew who he was when I met him, but I didn’t tell him that. I don’t want him to think I’m nice with him because he’s someone important here.”

“But you are, a little bit at least, right?”

She shrugged. “It’s not the only reason. We talked a lot, today. He’s really kind, as nice as any Akimichi at least, and yet everyone hates him and is afraid of him. It’s not his fault if Shukaku is acting up…”

“Wait, Shukaku? As in Shukaku, the One-Tailed Beast?”

“I know, right? I had a hard time believing it when he told me. He explained when I asked where his powers were coming from. The demon is really mean to him, you know. He doesn’t even let him sleep at all.”

Ensui went limp in his chair. “From all the kids in the fucking Elemental Nations, you’re the only one who would dare… Well, what is done is done.”

“Exactly what I thought, shishou.”

The man didn’t answer right away, standing up to serve them both glasses of water infused with his chakra as he wrapped his mind around the whole thing. It was so easy to get dehydrated here in the Desert, and the public sources of water weren’t the healthiest ones. Even if Water Release wasn’t his main affinity, he preferred giving her water he knew was pure.

“Well,” he sighed as he sat back, “there’s no harm in letting you spend time with the boy, I guess. But, please, don’t tell your mother or your uncle that I let you anywhere near a foreign jinchūriki. I’d like to keep my head on my shoulders, not buried in Kurenai’s garden.”

“So, I guess I can be friends with Uzumaki Naruto too when we get back?” she chirped. Living isolated inside the Nara land hadn’t stopped her from hearing about the Nine Tail and his young host. She had developed a talent for being exactly at the right place and time to collect intel.

“Hitomi, you’re not supposed to  _ know _ that!”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “Really, shishou. It’s the worst kept secret in the whole village.”

He at least had the gracefulness to appear embarrassed, rubbing his neck with an uneasy smile. She would be embarrassed too if her Jōnin colleagues had been unable to keep a secret. Ninjas were always the worst gossips.

Adult and child talked for a while until it was time to go to sleep. She woke up startled in the middle of the night; her meridians sensitivity was back with a vengeance. She felt like she was drowning in lava and had to spend hours in her Library fixing the problem. Ensui was right: the quiet times between her oversensitivity coming back were getting longer and longer. She could even start to summon this sense as will without getting overwhelmed. It wasn’t a complete success yet, but still a really good start.

In the following days, she got herself into a comfortable routine. In the morning, Gaara brought them some breakfast, something special they would only find in the village. A few mouthfuls provided enough energy for a whole morning of hard work. After that, they went to the training room in the basement of the hotel and Hitomi greeted the sun with Gaara, who had learned the moves by watching her.

Once she was properly warmed up, she worked on the skill Ensui had chosen for the day, often fighting. She wasn’t ready to spar with a real adult partner, so he made her do it against a shadow clone he transformed into a copy of his student with strawberry blonde hair. It was weird to fight against herself, but incredibly efficient: the clone, with Ensui’s taijutsu skills, was impossible to hit at her level, so she could never manage to dissipate it.

From time to time, Ensui asked Gaara to give him a hand in shuriken practice; the little boy was delighted to help by creating targets she had to hit with her weapons. It was hard sometimes, the targets hidden or too high for her to reach easily. Ensui told her he didn’t care how she hit them as long as she did, so she had to put her mind to it. After a really good training session, he even told her he wanted to teach her how to use senbon, the long needles that could be so precise and deadly. Before that, though, she had to master shuriken properly.

After a short break around noon, Hitomi had three hours of free time she always spent with Gaara. He showed her the sights of the city, the places he really loved and the ones that were important to him. She carefully stored each memory she built with him away in her Library. It was easy to entertain Gaara, who always looked at her with stars in his eyes. She was the stranger in this village, but it was ten times easier for her to communicate with adults and get what she wanted – be it ice creams or a pair of cinema tickets. Mentor and apprentice didn’t talk about it, but she was under the impression that Ensui always had his eyes on them.

At four in the afternoon, she came back to the suite, alone most of the time. Gaara was always sad when she had to go, but Ensui had explained to the boy that she didn’t have a powerful demon for protection and that she needed to learn new things, secret things, so she’d have alternatives if she needed such a weapon one day. Hitomi found him really good with special kids. Her, first, then Gaara. It couldn’t be just a coincidence. She wondered why he’d never helmed a Genin team. He would make a wonderful teacher.

With her mentor, Hitomi was learning the subtle and incredibly difficult art of sealing. As he had thought, she was instinctually predisposed to understanding how they worked. The only thing she lacked was experience, the thousand repetitions of a stroke before it was truly perfect, the time to master complicated moves necessary to draw some of them. Of course, Ensui didn’t allow her to use the special ink, only a simple one she could have bought at any store. She used stacks and stacks of paper scrolls. After a few days, her wrist was sore all throughout the day, and the ink stains didn’t wash out anymore. It was a small price to pay, though, for a bit of progress in the field she was so passionate about.

She’d been at Sunagakure for ten days when Gaara asked a question she hadn’t foreseen, his big turquoise eyes looking up to her as if she had an answer to all the mysteries of the universe. “Hitomi-nee, what does pain feel like?”

They had just left the cinema after seeing the most recent adventure movie. The girl wondered why her friend was asking such a question at this exact moment, then she realised that it had to have weighed on his mind for days, perhaps since the day they had met, and he had needed all this time to muster the courage to ask. He was the kind to swallow a feeling for days and days because he didn’t know how to translate it into proper words. She had had to work on him for days to get him to open up slowly, to admit the crushing loneliness that haunted him at all times.

“It’s… it’s a bit hard to describe with words. You see, when you’re in pain, it’s your body telling your brain that there’s danger and you have to back away as quickly as possible.” She let out a big sigh, weighing her words carefully, then continued. “There are two main types of pain: physical or emotional. People sometimes think they’re the same, but I strongly disagree. I’d prefer a physical pain lasting for years rather than an hour of emotional pain. Do you understand how they’re different?”

He nodded but she knew he was only doing so to please her, and was still struggling to wrap his mind around the concepts she was introducing him to. After all, he had never felt any physical pain and lived his life under constant emotional pain without knowing it. Her hand around his, she opened the door to the suite, which was starting to permeate with traces of its inhabitants’ personalities. Ensui didn’t bother packing all his things when he left, for instance: he knew Hitomi wouldn’t use them in a dangerous way.

“I know a way to make you feel physical pain despite your sand, Gaara, and in a safe way, but I have to warn you: it won’t be pleasant at all, if you decide to follow my idea.”

“But you always say that knowledge is a ninja’s most important weapon…”

“I do, and it is. I think you should do it because you have to be prepared to face this sensation if, one day, an opponent manages to hurt you. If you know what it feels, you won’t be caught off guard, you’ll know how to react.” She didn’t say it, but she also wanted him to learn pain so he never became the monster she knew from the first part of the canon. She knew he could have empathy, but empathy came with experience and understanding. He couldn’t see from other people’s perspectives if he never knew similar torments to the ones they faced every day.

“I-I’ll do it,” he mumbled. He looked so frightened it prompted Hitomi to hug him, as softly and tenderly as she could. She breathed in the scent of the sun and sand on his red hair, realising how small he looked compared to her, who wasn’t exactly a tall kid. She fully intended on taking advantage of this size difference when she still could, to deserve the suffix he’d used with her name for a few days now.

“You’re very brave, Gaara. I’ll be with you through this, I promise.” Under his anxious stare, she went to Ensui’s chemicals and looked for the one she needed. He had left them here for her to experiment, mostly on poisons. She didn’t have permission to test them herself, of course, and hadn’t asked what her mentor did to ensure her creations worked. She didn’t want to know.

“I guess you’ve heard of poisons, since it’s a Sunajin specialty. That’s what I’m going to use to make you learn pain but don’t worry, it will just last for a few minutes before I give you the antidote.” She picked a pill in Ensui’s poison kit then its counterpart. He had started desensitising her to common poisons, since she might use them in her fighting style. After pouring water in a glass, she dropped the pill in it and watched it dissolve and turn the liquid white. “You’re sure you want to do this, Gaara?”

She looked him in the eyes until he nodded. He still looked afraid, but there was a new-found determination in his eyes. This would make him an incredible shinobi one day. With an encouraging smile, she gave him the glass and watched him as he drank it in a few fast sips.

A few minutes later, she had to help him lay down on her bed. He had grown excruciatingly pale, his face covered by a thin layer of sweat, his limbs shaking as he hugged his no doubt painful belly. Terrified little moans escaped his lips, tears rolling on his cheeks.

“Take this, put it under your tongue and let it melt,” Hitomi whispered calmly. “It’s the antidote. Everything is gonna be okay, Gaara. You’ve very brave.”

He did as he was told and held Hitomi’s hand in his own, clammy and shaky. She cradled it until it was over and his body was done fighting off the poison – she felt it, in the way he slowly relaxed in her embrace.

“Y-you should hate me,” he mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard, his face drenched in tears hidden against her shoulder. She shifted away, just far enough to take his face between her hands and dried the wet paths on his cheeks.

“Why would I? I couldn’t hate you even if my life depended on it, Gaara. I’m so incredibly proud of you, and proud to be your friend. Friends hurt each other sometimes, physically or emotionally. That doesn’t mean they stop loving each other, and I still love you very much. Do you want to keep being my friend?”

With a hasty nod, he moved back in her arms, nuzzling against her like a tiny animal, and started sobbing uncontrollably. She let him cry, knowing full well how tears could set someone free. Her hands traced comforting circles on his back and did so until he fell asleep. An hour later, Ensui found them both sleeping, still hugging each other. He saw the glass, the traces of poison and disturbance of his bags, but didn’t say anything. Sometimes, he preferred not to know.


	10. The Project

The idea came to Hitomi, with the subtlety of a storm, during a restless night. She sat up on her bed, eyes wide open, her body tensed by a rush of adrenaline, then threw the covers away and stood up, the movement so quick she almost tripped on the cold floor. She had to fight with the desk lamp to get some light, cursed at her fingers, turned feverish by her haste.

She grabbed a notebook, still untouched, and started jotting down ideas as fast as she possibly could, almost afraid to forget something. She knew she couldn’t, but still. She almost felt like flying, pure euphoria pumping through her veins as she saw her pen scribble all the pieces she would need for this project. It was feasible – and she couldn’t understand how no Seal Master had ever thought of it.

“Hitomi?”

Startled out of her trance, she threw her pen in the direction of the voice by reflex. Ensui caught it between his index and middle finger and raised an eyebrow, looking at the tiny thing that could have killed him if he hadn’t been a shinobi. Okay, that was a good reflex to have for a young, future kunoichi, but still. “Wanna explain why you’re up in the middle of the night despite knowing I expect you ready for training at dawn?”

Only then did she look up from her notebook. Ensui couldn’t muffle his laugh when he saw the state she was in, ink staining her skin up to the tip of her nose. It made him look back and reflect on his own training, ages ago. He certainly hadn’t tried to appear clean or neat when he was in a studying frenzy. Once again, he mentally thanked Shikaku and the Hermit for giving him such an apprentice.

“I’m s-sorry, shishou. It’s just… I had this  _ idea _ , something that could change the world or at least be an awesome tool for us, one day. I can’t go back to sleep now, I just can’t. I’m not even tired, I swear.”

With a sigh, Ensui came into her room, his bare feet producing an almost inaudible pitter-patter against the tatamis. Hitomi had made fun of his shuriken pyjamas, with this gleam in her eyes that meant she did it out of affection. Now, she didn’t even notice it anymore. It was just a cute outfit for a big, terrifying ninja. He tied his hair in a hasty ponytail – he probably wasn’t going to get anymore sleep – then looked at her work, his hand rubbing her frail shoulder when he noticed she was cold.

It took him a while to understand what she was up to. It was very technical, her notes using kanjis and ornaments he had never used and barely remembered seeing in the books he had given her to study. Frowning, he brushed a kanji in particular with his finger then tapped on it, as if to emphasise his deep thinking. “It  _ is _ possible… But you’d have to work like hell to do it, kid.”

“Can I try?” she asked. “Please, shishou!”

He met her stare and almost stumbled from the strength of those large red eyes, full of supplication, avidity and impatience. He didn’t have a chance against such a stare and he knew it. His hand softly patted her shoulder. She had grown a lot these past few months. He noticed it sometimes, like someone would notice a train hitting them full force. “I think you can succeed. Fine, I’ll allow it, but on one condition: it can’t interfere with your other duties, to me or to your friend.”

She’d have less free time that way, but Ensui knew she would manage it just fine. She wouldn’t break under any pressure, he was sure of it. He didn’t want to test that hypothesis, of course, but she had taken the best traits from the Nara clan and from her terror of a mother. He could already see the girl walk in Kurenai’s steps in that regard and even surpass her. By the time she hit puberty, the whole village would probably have a reason to fear and love her.

It was settled then. That night, Hitomi didn’t sleep, so deeply immersed in her complex calculations and test strokes that she didn’t see the time pass. When Gaara walked in her room the following morning, she was still bent on her notebook, now almost full of notes of all kinds. She rubbed her eyes, staining them a bit more with black ink. She looked a bit like her friend, now, or like a chirpy little raccoon.

“Oh, thank you, Gaara!” She stood up and hugged him. She had discovered he loved hugs but didn’t dare ask for them, so she had taken it upon herself to hug him at least five times a day. He didn’t know how to react quite yet but it was coming to him slowly, and already he understood how to wrap his arms around her neck to hold her close. He almost purred with pleasure. So fucking cute.

“Did you decide to shower with an inkwell, Hitomi-nee?”

The girl looked up, startled, and stumbled upon her reflection in the mirror suspended behind her door. She grimaced when she realised the state she was in. She had ink all over her face and hands, even in her hair. That would be a pain to wash. “Uh… I’m gonna take a shower and change, okay? Go wait with Ensui-shishou, I won’t be too long.”

She  _ was _ long, but trying to get those stains to disappear from her pale skin involved a liberal amount of scrapping and soap. When she was done and more or less clean, she put on her training outfit and went to join her mentor and friend to the training room, wondering at the way her clothes felt too tight and a size or two too little for her. In this life, would she continue growing and reach a decent size? Five feet seven inches sounded good, for a kunoichi.

In the training room, with Gaara following each of her movements, she greeted the sun with a contented sigh. Her back and shoulders had suffered that night and it relieved her to no end to move once more. Her spine and joints snapped right in place again as she stretched through the routine of the greeting, pushing further than she usually did. She had to find something, a way for her body to stay in top condition even when she worked on theoretical subjects. Her enemies wouldn’t politely wait until she was done creating a seal before beating the shit out of her. She couldn’t allow herself to take it easy, in any kind of way.

That day, she fought against a clone, with weapons this time. Ensui tried to discover which type of blade would suit her the most – he didn’t like her to wander around without steel in a foreign village but knew he couldn’t give her even the dullest kunai. Ensui didn’t like much about Sunagakure, really. The sand annoyed him to no end, all the water around tasted like rust, and the sun burned like hell. Despite the constant unhappy grumble at the back of his mind, he always took care of putting sunscreen on Hitomi’s paler, more fragile skin before doing it for himself. She needed it more, and he could take the pain if he delayed enough to get a sunburn.

Kunai, as main weapons, didn’t suit Hitomi. They were too short, and even with one in each hand, she felt almost unbalanced when she tried to create a safety circle around her body. It wasn’t any better when she attacked: she hated being forced to stick to an opponent like glue to have a chance to land a hit. With a katana, she had another problem: she lacked accuracy, and the length of the blade disturbed the still hesitant harmony of her hits. She almost screamed with frustration when, trying to dodge a punch from the clone, she impaled herself on the wooden katana’s guard.

The tantō, though, felt perfect from the moment she tried her first swing with it. It was shorter, but not to the point of her not being able to defend herself, and lighter as well. It was a short and straight version of a katana, with a guard fit only for a one-handed hold. The tantō adjusted itself to her, rather than the other way around. She tested it against Ensui’s shadow clone until her shoulders shook with exhaustion. She felt so incredibly good.

“Well, I think we found your weapon, Hitomi. Go play with Gaara and be back in time for your lesson.”

The girl nodded, a smile on her lips. She took care of putting back all the wooden weapons she'd used, respecting of her mentor’s efforts to get them, then she took off with her friend. She knew how difficult it had been for Ensui to gain the right to train her on foreign grounds. She still listened to gossip, wherever she was, and she understood how fragile the peace between Konoha and Sunagakure was. And the situation would get worse before it got better, if she didn’t find a way to change things. Maybe she already had, with Gaara, but she couldn’t be sure, not before events unfolded.

She went with Gaara to a little stand not so far away from the hotel. It sold food that was practical to eat as they walked, and Gaara really liked it. Her own palate had gotten used to the spices Sunajin seemed to throw in every dish in liberal amounts. She didn’t feel hot anymore when she ate, which was really for the best. Gaara, at least, couldn’t make fun of her red cheeks and sweaty forehead anymore.

The two kids had a pleasant afternoon, as always. Sometimes, other children dared to try messing up with Hitomi, but one look at Gaara always made them back away. The girl was glad her friend protected her that way: it would be so bad for the peace if she grabbed one brat and used him to hit the others. The fact they had started it wouldn’t matter then.

When Gaara walked her back to the hotel, she was more enthusiastic than usual and had a hard time hiding it. After all, he’d be the first to receive her secret project, if it worked like she had intended it to. She hugged him, not caring one bit when the sand rose around them. Gaara couldn’t always control his power and she had gotten used to the tiny scratches he left her with sometimes. They didn’t even hurt anymore.

She found Ensui in their living room. He was waiting for her, a chemistry book opened on his lap, his long legs crossed. His hair was still damp from his last shower, probably an effort to fight off the Desert’s heat – a pointless effort, if his discreet frown was any indication. After taking a biscuit from the tray he had left her, she sat on the ground, looking up to him, and the lesson started. It was madly interesting. Hitomi wasn’t satisfied with the colour of her smoke bombs, so he had decided to talk to her about pigments: he explained their origins, their potency, the particular effects she could expect if she mixed them with other chemicals.

After that, he gave her a history lesson, focusing on the last Shinobi World War, of which he had been a big part. It was during those dreadful fights that he had gained his nickname, Konoha’s Strangling Shadow. Now the Bingo Book advised shinobi not to fight him, except if they could count on the support of two Jōnin. Right at the beginning of the lesson, Hitomi understood her mentor hated war, found it dirty and pointless. Yet, he had followed orders, because he was loyal to Shikaku and to the Nara Clan. He finished by telling her about the incident that had made him lose all respect for Hiruzen Sarutobi, Hokage the Third.

“I had a son, a ten years old boy, when ROOT reappeared. He was incredibly talented, a genius even, just like you and Shikamaru. He could master his shadows with an accuracy that even I lack. Of course, we were living through dangerous times. Despite his young age, he was already a Genin and the rumour was he’d be promoted soon. Danzō took him from his team while I was away on a mission and put that dreadful seal on his tongue. He sent my boy to dangerous missions he couldn’t tell me anything about. He always came back wounded – one day, he didn’t come back at all. They told me his body couldn’t be found. I still don’t know why he died, what obscure mission was worth him dying. I couldn’t… I couldn’t even give him a service.”

Hitomi was lost for words. She didn’t know what to say, what could possibly make her shishou’s pain a little bit more bearable. Such words probably didn’t even exist. She had to settle with putting a hand on his forearm without looking at him, because she knew how embarrassed he would be if he knew she could see and hear his tears. He had never cried in front of her. A lot of shinobi found tears disgraceful, a sign of weakness. She disagreed. One had to be strong to cry, to face their own distress.

After that, the lesson stopped. Hitomi got up and brought a glass of lemonade to her mentor, then fetched her books so she could work there, sitting her back against one of his legs. After an hour or so, he got himself back together enough to be able to watch over her shoulder and tell her some piece of information that would be useful to her project. Thanks to him, she advanced a lot on her research that night, even if she wasn’t quite ready for an experiment yet.

“You’ll need a lot of paper for this, I guess.”

She hummed in answer, busy biting on her pen, then answered in more detail. “I think I want to use notebooks for them, so you can easily carry one around but it won’t get crumpled if you rough it up a little. Hardcover notebooks, I guess. Do you think I could find some at a bookshop?”

He considered it for a few seconds then answered, tapping his fingers against his knee as if to help gather his thoughts. “Possible, yeah. Your mother gave me some money for you, an allowance if you will. I was just waiting for you to need it… and I guess you already know how you’re gonna spend it.”

She laughed, a soft, light sound that warmed both their hearts, then looked up to him. “Can I have the money tomorrow, please? I’d like to go around the bookshops with Gaara.” Since it had worked so well last time, she used the Kitten Stare Technique once more. She didn’t use any chakra, so she wasn’t sure she could really call it a technique, but who would complain? Not Ensui, that was for sure: he was too busy drowning in her big red eyes and trying to resist her cute pout. It wasn’t her fault if adults, especially her mentor and her uncle, were so sensitive to it. When he sighed so loud it looked like he was trying to blow away the whole desert, she knew she had won and hugged him, laughing again.


	11. A Delicate Balance

“I still don’t understand why you need so many notebooks,” Gaara huffed. He wasn’t the only one having a hard time there: Hitomi too crumbled under the weight of dozens and dozens of notebooks. She had bought  _ so many _ . After a while, her friend had had enough and had used his sand to carry most of the stack, but still, they had their hands full. The Sunajin walking around probably thought they were hallucinating and watched, open-mouthed, as their jinchūriki and this damn foreign girl went back to the hotel.

“I’m working on that fūinjutsu project…”

“I know that! But you have enough to open your  _ own _ bookstore, where you’d only sell empty notebooks. Don’t you think you went a bit overboard there?”

Hitomi looked at all the notebooks, their colourful spines and white edges, then shrugged. “Nope!”

Gaara sighed, doing his best to follow her. Almost two years her junior, he couldn’t help but admire her – but she walked too fast for the Desert, she really did. “Anyway, you gonna tell me about this project?”

“Sorry, Gaara, it’s a secret. You won’t know a thing before it’s done and I can show you.”

“But you told Ensui-san!”

For just a moment, Hitomi almost gave in. She shouldn’t have taught the Stare to Gaara, he was too effective with those damned big turquoise eyes of his. She shook it up, freeing herself from the ‘technique’, and gave him her most sibylline smile. “I told him because he has at least twenty years on me when it comes to fūinjutsu, so he can help. And I want the project to be ready before I leave. I need all the help I can get.”

“But  _ why _ ?” he whined.

This time, she burst out laughing. Seeing Gaara acting like a boy his age was pure bliss, a consecration even. She was so happy she almost wanted to drop her notebooks and hug him. She’d get a mean scratch from his sand if she ever did that, and didn’t want to damage her new acquisitions, but still, the desire was there.

“You’ll see!” She started running then, all her ninja agility stopping the notebooks from falling all over the road, thrilled to hear him run after her. She reached the door of the suite before him, but only because she had trained for almost a year now, at least when it came to running. Her body really started to get in a satisfying shape. With a playful laugh, she entered the living room, not giving the slightest fuck about the sand she was leaving everywhere. Anyway, Gaara would do worse than that. Far worse.

Ensui was reading, slouched on the couch like the Nara he was. He looked up from his page when he heard her turn up with such a racket, then raised  _ both _ eyebrows as he saw the unholy number of notebooks she had bought. Then he saw Gaara’s stack and it took all he had not to start laughing maniacally. If there was just one empty notebook left in any Sunajin bookshop, he’d eat his whole pouch of kunai. Slowly, feigning a laziness that didn’t fit him but went along with the Nara brand, he got up and caught the books from the top of her pile, which were perilously sliding forward.

“If you don’t have enough to get your project ready with all that, I’ll be damned. What will you do if you have some left?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” she answered with a mysterious smile.

Ensui let out a resigned sigh then served them both a glass of lemonade. He let them calm down for half an hour, knowing full well how useless and mean it would be to make them work so quickly after living quite the adventure – for their age, anyway. They could have focused, but why take away the tiny joys he could offer them, and what were thirty little minutes to him? He had to admit he liked seeing his apprentice so happy, and he himself had come to like the little jinchūriki who followed her everywhere.

When they calmed down, he started that day’s lesson. For some subjects, he allowed Gaara’s presence. He knew the little boy didn’t have any form of teacher or even authority around, except for Hitomi and now him. What harm would it do to teach him about medicine, like today? It was even a good thing that he was there: that way, Hitomi could practice on someone around her size and weight. The children trusted each other so deeply they didn’t have any problem with letting the other manipulate their body.

After the lesson, Gaara went home, saying goodbye to Hitomi as he always did, with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She knew how hard she would miss him once Ensui decided it was time to go. She had come to know him, really know him, and to love life around him. He was a true friend, someone she could go to if she wanted to speak about anything, be it her day or the fears keeping her up at night. It would be hard, not seeing him every day anymore.

When he was gone, she went back to her fūinjutsu books. Some of them were very old, and she was aware Ensui hadn’t gotten them the legal way. Sometimes, he went away for a few hours during the night and, when he came back in the morning, there were new books on Hitomi’s desk, books that smelled like the Sunajin’s shinobi library and were now missing from it. Quite frankly, Hitomi didn’t give a shit about the fact that her master stole priceless books from a foreign nation. If the public had been able to read them and check them out, he wouldn’t have had to do that. But  _ no _ , the fūinjutsu section  _ had _ to be for Sunajin Jōnin only. Ridiculous.

During most of the evening, she worked on her first test of the seals. She went to fetch two empty notebooks from one of the piles in a corner of her room and, under Ensui’s ever-watchful stare, she drew her seals on the inner part of the covers, one book then the other. Her calligraphy had gotten a lot better these last few months, to the insane level of precision asked from fūinjutsu apprentices. She still had a lot to work on before she could aspire to the title of Seal Mistress, but at least she was good enough for this work.

After twenty minutes, her first test was ready. She mixed chakra and infused it in a page after writing a few kanji on it, her eyes full of a voracious impatience. She only owed her safety to Ensui’s prodigious reflexes: he grabbed her and propelled her away from the two notebooks just before they turned into a huge ball of fire. His hand slightly shook as he held her against his torso, his mouth spewing chakra-infused water to extinguish the flames. “That was close. What do you say, Seal Mistress?”

She swallowed the nervous laugh that wanted to escape her lips and put a few strands of hair behind her ear so they wouldn’t get it the way. “The combustion wasn’t planned and means that something is seriously wrong with this seal, that it lacks stability. However, the fact they both caught fire at the same time is a very good sign, right, shishou?”

Ensui couldn’t help but laugh, seeing her in this state of dishevelment and yet so serious, so enthusiastic. She had failed, and yet she didn’t seem affected at all, or only by an impatience to get back to work. He messed up her hair even more, his hand soft on the black curls. She had scared him. “I agree with you, kid. But seeing the strength of the reaction makes me believe it best to have you experiment only when I’m there and ready to grab you. I forbid any test without my supervision. We still have ten days left in Suna. You have enough time to finish it before we go. Alright?’

She nodded, meeting his eyes to show him she took it all seriously. His instructions made sense, after all.  _ She _ certainly didn’t have the power to extinguish fire with a few hand seals. She didn’t have large enough chakra reserves yet for any ninjutsu training, and even less for techniques that looked around B rank like this one.

After working on it for one more hour, she was ready to try again. Another failure: this time, the two notebooks turned to dust. It was frustrating, yes, but it also gave her valuable information about what had gone wrong. With the help of her books, she could discover why her seals didn’t turn out the way she wanted them to. Still, Ensui didn’t seem to think the number of books she had bought was so insane anymore.

She only had ten days left and she intended on getting the most out of them. She wanted to succeed before leaving Sunagakure. Imagining Gaara’s reaction when she’d give it to him was motivation enough. She wanted to see it for real. She didn’t count the hours, nor the number of books she had to read through to get what she needed. She had chosen another of her notebooks to write down her ideas for improvements. She didn’t really need to, but it comforted her.

The hard part was hiding her work without making it unstable. Ensui had lectured her for two hours about the secret she needed to keep in mind at all times around seals. All masters had to be careful, so their seals didn’t fall into enemies’ hands. She had to find ways to make her seals more complex, impossible to decipher, by using more than one layer of ink on the paper so a curious reader couldn’t tell which one belonged to her seal, all without disturbing the fragile construction that her work was.

During a sparring session, Hitomi understood she had to learn how to compartmentalise her thoughts and activities. She was fighting against a shadow clone Ensui had created, her naked feet pattering against the tatamis each time she dodged, but part of her mind was focused on the last problem she had stumbled upon with her seal. She did her best to focus on her opponent, but she had to admit it: she was doing a pretty shitty job of it.

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed, the clone pressing harder and harder against the weakest points of her defence, so hard, in fact, that her feet got mixed up and she tripped. Usually, the clone backed away, allowing her to regain her balance, but not this time. On the contrary, it pushed its advantage against her and picked up the pace, the wooden blade hitting her hard on the shoulder. She yelped in pain, but that didn’t stop the clone either, nor did it let her time to protect herself or back away.

And then…

Then.

Then her whole world turned into a sandstorm, billions of abrasive grains of sand shifting and flying to form a protective dome around her. The clone exploded in smoke, its wooden tantō falling on the ground. A hand on her shoulder to assess the damage, Hitomi tried to get up, out of breath and her hair stuck against her skin from sweat.

She couldn’t see it but, outside the sandstorm, Ensui and Gaara had gotten in a glaring match. Everything contrasted them, up to their very attitude: the Nara looked relaxed, as always, but the child was so tense his body probably protested, his two hands up in the air to command his sand to protect his precious friend.

“Call back the sand, kid. Lesson isn't over yet.”

“It is, and I won’t! You hurt her!”

“She didn’t  _ focus _ ! What do you think, kid, that enemy ninjas will wait for her to give them her whole attention before doing something far worse to her? I  _ won’t _ watch my apprentice get killed because she didn’t learn she can’t be distracted during a fight, I just won’t!”

A heavy silence settled on the training room. Mortified, Hitomi cowered against the sand wall, still slightly shaking. She knew Ensui was right, of course, but she had worked so hard from the very beginning so she wouldn’t disappoint him; having it happening after so many months made her feel so lost she didn’t know how to react. Her face burning with shame, she forbade her tears from running down her cheeks.

Gaara reluctantly obeyed Ensui’s instructions. The sand crumpled then came back to pool around his feet. When he didn’t use it, Gaara usually gave it the shape of an animal from any part of the Desert, since he didn’t have his gourd yet to transport it. Sometimes, his creations were so vivid they seemed to be the real thing. This time, though, he was too upset to create anything.

Ensui was the first to Hitomi’s side, kneeling to come eye to eye with her. His hand careful and soft, he pulled on her neckline to expose her shoulder and see the wound he had inflicted to her.

His features were frozen in an expressionless mask as his dark grey eyes took in the dark purple bruise on her pale skin. Without commenting on it, he stood up and helped her to her feet, careful to avoid her painful shoulder. “Come too, Gaara,” he commanded calmly.

Without even checking if the little boy was following – he was quite obedient after all, thanks to Hitomi’s influence – Ensui led his apprentice through the hotel, to their suite. In three days, they’d leave the desert and all its hidden treasures behind, as hard as it would be. Hitomi’s training was far from over. He still had a lot to teach her before she was ready to go back. Before  _ he _ was ready to go back.

In the living room, he made her sit on the couch and asked her to take off her shirt, giving her a towel to cover what needed to be. He knew children her age weren’t really modest, but Hitomi was different. If he could avoid it, he'd rather not intrude or make her embarrassed in his presence.

His features now betraying an emotion Hitomi couldn’t quite define, he brushed his fingers against the bruise then engulfed it under his large, calloused palm. In Hitomi’s eyes, her master’s hands were beautiful, a work of art even, the scars and calluses a testimony of his life as a shinobi. She closed her eyes and sighed with relief when he got to work, minty green chakra pouring out of his fingers to slowly erase the bruise. When he lifted his hand, her skin had turned a fading shade of yellow and it didn’t hurt anymore when she moved, only when she touched it – which she did only once. Medical ninja arts were a true miracle.

“I’m really sorry, Hitomi. Gaara is right, I was too hard on you. You need to learn this lesson, but still, I was too hard. Sometimes, I forget how young you still are. I’m sorry.”

Speechless, her eyes wide open in shock, Hitomi stared at her mentor. Next to her, Gaara acted the same. Neither of them were used to adults admitting when they were in the wrong in front of them or, even worse, accepting that a child had shown better discernment than they had. The girl pulled herself together first and brushed his forearm with a comforting smile. “It’s okay, shishou. Look, it’s almost gone! I know you won’t make this mistake again, I trust you. And you’re right, I have to learn.”

These words didn’t do much to ease Ensui’s guilt. He had never thought he’d ever be that hard on his apprentice, who worked so hard to please him. Still, he was thankful for the mix of kindness and sweetness she offered him. He knew that, with a memory like hers, forgiving was not a small feat. He had lived long enough amongst his clanmates to understand.

After making sure his apprentice was alright, he allowed Gaara to take her for lunch. Later, still feeling a bit guilty, he cut the theoretical lesson short so she could have a bit more time with her secret project. The faster she was done, the faster he could fully get her back, anyway.


	12. The Departure

In the middle of the night, a victorious cry woke up a number of people in the hotel, some starting to grumble about the damned girl who had interrupted their night. Not one of them, though, dared to go knock on her door, knowing full well that she was sharing her suite with an adult, terrifying shinobi. They liked their head on their neck, thank you very much.

In the suite’s living room, Hitomi had jumped on her feet and was hopping up and down with excitement. Deep in her euphoria, she leaped in her mentor’s arms. He held her close, laughing with her. He had seen her throw herself in this project, put her whole soul into it, and was just delighted for her to see that she had succeeded in time.

The due date had grown so close he had allowed her to have a sleepless night: in a few hours, at dawn, they would say their goodbyes and hit the road again, leaving Sunagakure behind them. Then, Ensui would have quite some time left for Hitomi’s training before she had to be back in Konoha for the Academy. When his protegee would get in a Genin team and go out again without him, she’d know what to do.

Ensui had to admit it: for her age, Hitomi’s prowess was incredible, the kind even Hokage the Fourth hadn’t been capable of. To be fair, Namikaze Minato hadn’t been taught from as young as she was, but still. Ensui knew full well that  _ he _ couldn’t have created that seal, even if he had had the idea in the first place. One day, one day so close he could feel it breathing down his neck, she’d surpass him in this field. She’d need someone who knew far more that he did about fūinjutsu. As if Seal Masters were easy to find. Only two of them were still alive in the whole world, and both had left Konoha a long time ago.

Gaara, still very punctual for a four years old child, was at their door ten minutes before dawn. Hitomi hadn’t been able to make him grow out of the fear she wouldn’t be his friend anymore or wouldn’t want to see him if he was even a minute late and, since being on time was a good habit anyway, she had stopped trying.

The suite had been emptied of everything that had made it lively during the past month, clothes, weapons and unholy piles of notebooks back in a storage seal she kept in her backpack, far lighter than it had been when she had left Konoha. There were only two left, waiting on the coffee table – but those were really, really special.

The two kids couldn’t really hide their sadness as they ate the breakfast Gaara had brought. Ensui was too respectful of his apprentice to act like he hadn’t noticed, but they couldn’t be late: the caravan they had come with wouldn’t wait for them as it left Sunagakure. He motioned for her to proceed as she had planned when the time of departure approached.

She stood up then, her eyes shining with restrained tears. She kept her emotions at bay, her back straight, like the future kunoichi he could see in her, in her silhouette, in her eyes, in the way she carried her wooden tantō, in her aerial gait. Her movements almost reverent, she took the two notebooks waiting on the coffee table and went back to Gaara, who had followed her with his eyes filled with such melancholy Ensui’s heart ached.

“I-I’d like to give you a gift before leaving. I know you’ll be alone again and I’ll miss you an awful lot, s-so I thought… Here, it’s for you.” She gave him one of the notebooks, the one with a turquoise spine. She had written his name on the cover in golden kanjis, her calligraphy as perfect and harmonious as ever.

The boy took her offering but stared at it with confusion, biting his lower lip. “You… You got me a notebook?”

She blushed and showed him the one she had kept for herself, red and black, with her name written in silver on the cover. “You see, the project I was working on… well, that’s it. Wait, I’m going to show you how it works.” She opened her notebook, grabbed a pencil and wrote a few words on the first page. When she was done, she infused chakra in the paper; immediately, Gaara’s notebook turned cold, making him suck in a breath. Hitomi had quickly discovered that, with a flammable medium, the opposite reaction was asking for a disaster. “Open it,” she smiled.

The boy obeyed, as he always did when her friend spoke. He raised an eyebrow when he saw that a message had appeared on the first page. He wanted to understand but didn’t dare to, fearing the bitter sting of disappointment if he had gotten it wrong.

“See,” Hitomi chirped, “we can stay in touch that w–“

She didn’t get to finish her sentence: he had pounced on her like a cute kitty cat and was hugging her as strong as he could without hurting her. And how much stronger he had become, even in a short month! Hitomi hadn’t been the only one to work during Ensui’s training sessions. With a delighted little laugh, she hugged him back with her free hand, petting his hair.

“I love you, Hitomi-nee!”

Those words really surprised her. Her eyes widening in surprise, she looked at Ensui in hope he’d have the answer to her silent question. When he gave her an encouraging smile and a nod, she relaxed. “I love you too, Gaara. Don’t you ever forget that.”

She spent the next fifteen minutes explaining everything he needed to know about her invention to Gaara. He could write as much as he wanted before infusing chakra in the paper: the complete message would appear on her notebook. She didn’t tell him, but she had discovered she could link as many notebooks as she wanted to hers, and she planned to use this as a way to create a little net of communication. The notebook grew cold when it got a new message, which stayed until an hour after the notebook had been opened without disappearing from the page. It was more than enough time to copy the message before answering if Gaara wanted to – Hitomi herself would never need that.

The two children agreed to write to each other at least once a day, and to warn the other when it wouldn’t be possible. They agreed on the fact they could send more messages in case of emergency, and that it might be impossible for the other to answer right away. After all, Hitomi would soon enter the Academy, and Gaara would follow his own teaching program, even if he wasn’t sure yet he wanted to go to Suna’s shinobi school. Teachers wouldn’t know how to manage him, and all his classmates would be afraid of him. When she would be gone, there wouldn’t be anyone left for him. She needed to change that.

The goodbyes were bitter, but sweetened by this new possibility, this line of communication. Gaara was still learning to write, but his kanas were good enough for them to communicate. He’d even have a good motivation to learn his kanjis now that he had someone to use them with. Hitomi had never wondered about ninja children and their precocity. It seemed normal to her, now that she was immersed in it. Most clan kids could read and write without problems around the age of six. Gaara was already really good for his age, and she – no, she was a special case.

Some members of the caravan remembered them and greeted them kindly, memories coming to mind of their willingness to help with chores even though they had paid for their spot in their group, of their tendency to stay apart during mealtime, of their training when they stopped because of the heat. This time, it was another team escorting them, three Chūnin. Hitomi was delighted to realise she had been able to keep her perceptions encaged for more than two weeks now. She didn’t need to back down, didn’t need to stay aside. She was free.

Once again, the days became monotonous. They walked slowly on a sea of sand, the sun glaring at them before allowing a cold, cold night to replace its suffocating heat. Fortunately, this time, Hitomi had more things to do to keep busy, and she didn’t have to cope with her feelings coming back like a rubber band breaking. She took a week just to make another notebook for Shikamaru. She missed her cousin dearly and working on this gift for him helped her tone down this yearning.

She had also started drawing her own storage seals. They were so expensive in Konoha, after all. Every ninja who could make their own did, even if it took them hours for the simplest seal. She also knew how to make basic explosive seals but preferred chemical explosions when she had the choice. She was working on the possibility of combining the two types of seals to make one that would  _ create _ a chemical explosion after storing its components. Her smile as she thought about it made the Chūnin who was looking at her step back with a chill.

During that trip, she also learned survival tactics that would help her if she was ever alone in a desert. One night, Ensui led her far away from the camp, ordered her to wait for two hours then to get back to the fire through her own means. It was harder than she had thought, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that her mentor was following her, his chakra so muffled she couldn’t feel it at all, but she managed after some time spent looking at the night sky. He made her do it every night until he was sure she’d never be lost in such an environment.

The lessons continued, of course. One of the Chūnin was fourteen years old, and quite frail for his age: he soon agreed to be her sparring partner. To make their strength difference less painfully obvious, he was only allowed to use taijutsu, while Hitomi could use her wooden tantō. Still, she couldn’t even touch him with it, no matter how hard she tried. At least she was good at dodging his attacks. She knew Ensui was incredibly proud of her, and it was all that mattered to her.

One night, bored and not at all drawn to her usual projects, she took an empty notebook from one of her storage seals, sat near the fire and went into her Library. She found what she wanted and started writing the first words of a book she had loved in the Previous World, when she was still a sickly child. It was hard, since she had to translate and adapt it to her new situation, but she really wanted to get all the stories she had loved into this world.

Every night, she waited impatiently for her communication notebook to get cold. She loved it when Gaara told her about his day. He finally had an instructor that didn’t fear him too much and taught him things. Alas, Hitomi feared it wouldn’t last, so she tried to push him to go see his siblings, with no success for the moment. He told her, his writing still a bit clumsy, about what he had learned during the day, and she answered with tales of the Desert and life in a caravan. In the end, what they had to say didn’t matter as much as the fact they were there for each other.

Finally, the Sunajin Desert ended and green replaced yellow in the horizon. The caravan wasn’t as heavily loaded as it had been the first time, which had made it that much quicker. Hitomi admitted this trip wasn’t as boring as the first, but she couldn’t wait for a change of scenery. When Ensui decided it was time to continue alone, she said her goodbyes to the men and women she had come to like, eager still to go back to being alone with her mentor. The fact that he was less grumpy now that they had good grass under their feet was just a bonus.


	13. The Shinobi Arts

Ensui didn’t want to go near any Hidden Village before coming back to Konoha and was very careful to go around the one in the Land of Rivers. When they left the Sunajin Desert, he guided Hitomi south. After a day and a half, they reached the ocean. He watched, moved by a feeling he didn’t quite understand yet, as his apprentice discovered this new scenery.

This ocean couldn’t be more different from the one she knew in the Previous World. This water was a perfect, pure shade of blue, reflecting a sky no cloud troubled. The waves didn’t carry any dirt or trash, gently rolling on the shingle beach. She loved it. She loved it more than words could convey.

With her master’s approval, she had a long walk along the shore, allowing water to tickle her naked feet. The water had been warmed by the sun all day and was quite mild against her skin – and so perfectly transparent. She’d tell Gaara about it and maybe take him here one day. She could already picture the sweet amazement on his face, his turquoise eyes going wide with happiness, and his smile, almost shy but so, so happy.

When she had played enough for her taste, she obediently came back to Ensui, who had gotten a camp ready far enough from the beach, so they didn’t have to sleep on pebbles. He had, though, gotten driftwood so he could show her blue and green flames, and explain how the chemistry behind it worked. That day, they hunted together in the undergrowth a mile from the beach: Hitomi caught a hare and Ensui two birds they ate in a comfortable silence, their legs warmed up by the fire.

Hitomi had to admit that, despite her affection for Gaara, she had missed being alone with Ensui. The boy hadn’t been there all the time but, in the hotel, the relationship between them hadn’t been the same. They had had to adapt, to include her third person in their dynamic, because Hitomi wouldn’t have had it otherwise and Ensui would have been disappointed in her if she had.

Hitomi’s sixth birthday happened a few days later, as they followed the littoral to reach the Land of Fire’s territory. The weather was starting to get cold but, in the south, winters were brief and even milder than in Konoha. The little girl didn’t expect any gift. She knew it wasn’t a priority, for herself or her mentor, and birthdays weren’t really celebrated in her Hidden Village.

However, in the morning, he had something ready for her. As she finished greeting the sun, he bowed slightly and gave her a long package wrapped in a length of dark red silk. Adults seemed to agree on the fact that this was her colour, and she didn’t dare disagree. It could have been far worse, after all. She actually liked dark red, so it was okay. She took the package politely, with her two hands, like her mother had taught her to.

She lost her breath after removing the silk. It was a tantō, a real one, the kind you only found exposed in manors belonging to feudal lords. Unable to hide her amazement, she brushed her fingers against the lacquered black wood, following the red deer silhouettes painted from the extremity of the sheath up to the guard. Slowly, she unsheathed it, the blade whispering against the wood, her movement practiced a thousand times with her practice tantō. This one was so much lighter, and so clean, so perfect. She could see her reflection in the steel. On the brink of tears, Hitomi swallowed the big ball of emotion that had formed in her throat.

“You like it.” It wasn’t a question. Ensui knew, as surely as he knew how to breathe.

“It’s… It’s…” Overwhelmed by emotion, she couldn’t find the words to tell him how grateful she was for this gift. Her mouth hanging open, the little girl managed to tear her gaze away from her new blade to look up at her mentor. There was no need to deny the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t fool him, ever. “Thank you, shishou. I’ll treat it well.”

“I’m glad you like it, kiddo. And I’m sure you will. Tell me, if you decide to name it.”

“I have, shishou. Its name is Peregrine.” She looked at him, then, watched as he understood what the name meant, who it was intended for.

Ensui smiled as she sheathed it and helped her hang it to her belt. In seven years, his apprentice would graduate from the Academy. Then, she’d have to think about a battle outfit, but he had a few ideas for her, if she needed some. He’d have years to tell her about them. He could already dream about them, though, about the kunoichi she’d become. The others wouldn’t be ready for her, even the toughest ninjas he knew. They’d melt and kneel before her, and he couldn’t wait to see it.

The next days were a bit more relaxed. Finally, they got into the Land of Fire, but Ensui didn’t want to go north to the Hidden Village just yet. He still had things to teach to his apprentice, things he wanted her to learn in the security of a seemingly endless forest, rather than in a village where anyone could be a ROOT operative in disguise. He preferred her being here, with him, safe.

He ensured she could find her way from anywhere in the Fire Forest, taught her to hunt from the trees, how to run for hours without feeling tired, even if she hadn’t started on chakra training yet. She hadn’t been ready, not quite yet, but he could feel it when the day came, a deep warmth when he opened himself to her chakra.

One day, a downpour hit the Land of Fire so hard they couldn’t walk far without being drenched and cold to the bone. Ensui often pushed his apprentice to her limits, but it would have been stupid to make her this uncomfortable when he already knew she could manage under rain. However, he refused to waste this precious time so, when he found a cave big enough, he sat with her in front of the fire he had made her light up. She was ready for a half-forgotten training, one only some almost-extinguished clans could make their children follow. Since they were almost gone, no one would really complain about him teaching her their secrets. Anyway, she was the heir of one of those clans. He owed it to her.

“Chakra,” he explained, “is a force present in all living things, but also in the air you breathe. You can’t feel that one yet, but maybe it will come one day.  _ You _ produce chakra, but that doesn’t make you any different from a civilian. What  _ makes _ the difference is the capacity to use this energy, to turn it into a weapon. Anyone can work at this and become a shinobi, but clan-born children will always be better at it than civilian-born will. Do you know why?”

She knew it was connected to what Kurenai had taught her. “Kinda. We learn earlier, right?”

“It’s one of the reasons, yes. Clan-born children start training far before the Academy. Your mother followed her father’s and Shikaku’s advice, she started teaching you things other kids will discover at the Academy. It gives you an advantage compared to civilian-born children. At best, they will know how to write and read, but look at what  _ you _ know.”

It was unfair, of course, but Hitomi was happy to be on the privileged side. Her plan would require everything she had, every advantage she could get. Too bad if it was unfair. Fairness couldn’t win wars. One day, she would.

“The main difference, though, is innate. Clan-born kids have bigger chakra reserves. Some clans, like the Uzumaki and the Yūhi, were even renowned for their prodigious reserves once, before wars had them almost extinct. They were called the Tailless Demons. Once they reached their full potential, they could compare to jinchūriki. This power is in your blood, Hitomi.”

Hitomi couldn’t believe her ears, but she knew Ensui wouldn’t lie to her. She had never heard this about her clan. She wondered why her mother and grandfather had never told her. Were they afraid she’d burn too high, too quick?

“Those two clans are almost extinct, as I said. There’s three members left of the Yūhi clan, and the Uzumaki clan… You know the jinchūriki, Naruto, at least his reputation, right? I can’t tell you about the reasons that led to their disappearance, only that their chakra reserves made them targets.”

The girl nodded, still staring at her mentor. She hung on Ensui’s every word, storing everything he said in her Library. She knew more than he thought about how the Uzumaki Clan had disappeared, but how could she explain where her knowledge came from, so she kept quiet.

“Today, I’m gonna teach you the basis of chakra control. Civilians won’t learn anything about this before their third year in the Academy, and that’s if they’re lucky. It is, though, of the utmost importance that  _ you _ , my dear apprentice, start today.” He held a leaf between his fingers, one he had carefully dried out with chakra. He gave it to Hitomi, who looked at it, clearly a bit lost. “You’re gonna try to use your chakra to stick this leaf to your forehead without tearing through it. Continue until you master it, or until you can’t mix chakra anymore.”

Hitomi got settled in seiza position and started. She had already used chakra for little things before, and instinctively in her Library, but it usually only left her body through her hand. It was another matter entirely to get it to her forehead, to measure the exact quantity she needed – too much and she ripped the leaf up, too little and it fell on her knees – then to keep the chakra flow steady for more than a few seconds. After two hours and a stack of leaves at her feet, she managed to stick the damned thing to her forehead. She was already feeling the first signs of chakra exhaustion, even if it was nothing compared to what she had gone through when she had first tried to cage her meridians’ perceptions.

It was so difficult to describe how she felt, having chakra in her body. For Hitomi, it was like having hot chocolate coursing through her body, coiling around her organs, enhancing her senses. She often wondered if other shinobi were conscious of this, of the presence of their own chakra system inside their bodies, of each meridian under their skin. She could never totally forget about it.

Sending chakra somewhere in her body was complicated: the energy didn’t comply easily and kept wanting to go back to its normal cycle through her limbs. She probably wasted a lot of it during this exercise, or even when she mixed it. However, Ensui seemed satisfied when another leaf stuck to her forehead for more than a minute. It fell and Hitomi cursed through clenched teeth.

“Do it again. You’re on the right track.”

“Yes, shishou.” Motivated by the compliment, she picked up the leaf and put it back on her forehead, calling her chakra to keep it in place. Her hands had started shaking, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t stop either when her breathing became laborious, when she started feeling dizzy. Her eyes stayed on Ensui’s silhouette against the light. She was waiting for his permission, and too bad if she burned away everything she had before he gave it. She refused to back down.

He waited until the very last moment, catching her when she fell, so out of breath she choked on air. Her heart thundered under her ribs, so strong and fast she feared it was going to break out of her chest. She knew she had a hard night ahead of herself and looked up to her master, confusion clearly written in her eyes.

“The only way to enlarge your chakra reserves to their full potential is to empty them again and again,” he explained in a compassionate and soft voice. “It has to be done when you’re just a child or it’s too late. Like your speed and flexibility, the size of your reserves only expands with hard and painful work. You’ll be in pain, and maybe you’ll hate me, but if you keep it up, one day you’ll be called a Tailless Beast, too. That’s what you want, right?”

Ensui wasn’t stupid. He was aware of her thirst for power. He didn’t see it as a bad thing, quite the contrary. It meant she wanted to learn, wanted to get better, wanted strength. Those were good desires for a shinobi, a motivation that often made the difference between getting a sensei after graduating or being faced with other possibilities. He couldn’t imagine her doing her last year at the Academy again, joining the General Genin Forces or even transferring to another career like medicine or research. She was a shinobi through and through, despite her young age.

He  _ knew _ , and he never let go of her. Everyday, Hitomi emptied her chakra reserves one way or another, often through control exercises. When she was able to stick a leaf on her forehead for more than an hour, he added one on her right shoulder, then on her left, and cetera. He got the number up to ten, each on a different part of her body. Once she had understood what she needed to do, once she had gotten the exercise drilled up to her core, it wasn’t hard at all to add more leaves. Changing the material was easy too, from the paper of her scrolls to the thick wool of her blanket. She just needed to find the right dosage. The more fragile the material, the more control she needed to apply, since the quantity of chakra was less and less important. When Hitomi was able to get a piece of silk paper stuck on her forehead without tearing through it, he changed exercise.

She was sick every night with chakra exhaustion and, sometimes, she had to admit it, she hated what her mentor made her go through. Oh, she didn’t hate  _ him _ , could never hate him, because he took such good care of her, sacrificed countless hours of sleep to comfort her and hold her hair back when she threw up, her body burning in agony. She had to admit, too, that she  _ felt _ her reserves grow day after day, and replenish faster each night. It got harder to empty them.

She didn’t cope just because Ensui was there, though. Somewhere deep in the cold fog which had replaced her chakra inside, a flame burned high and clear, pushing her further and further, refusing her to stop or to yield. Sometimes, even her mentor was worried about the way she spent her chakra as soon as it reappeared in her reserves, but he couldn’t deny that the pain she inflicted upon herself now would help her in the future. Her flame of determination, he would have called it the Will of Fire. She called it her plan, her desire to change things for the better, the list of people she needed to save and the other list, the one of all the people she’d have to kill one day.

When Ensui was perfectly content with her mastery of the leaf exercise, he taught her how to use chakra as a boost when throwing weapons. It hurt like hell in the beginning, when the meridians on her hands and feet fought to adapt to this big impulsion burning through it. She didn’t back down, though, even when her joints started to ache after practice then never stopped.

When would adversity ever stop and wait for her to catch up, after all? She’d pursue this training until there was no more progress to be made and only time could enlarge her reserves anymore. Puberty was a miracle, really. It was for a good reason that, outside wartime, Academy students couldn’t graduate under the age of eleven, and were still strongly advised to wait until they were twelve. Youngsters burned too fast, too quick, when they were sent too early in the field. Most of them never came home.

Four months after her birthday, Ensui deemed her ready to take a new step on the road she had chosen for herself. She took her first full rest day in all that time, sleeping for twelve hours straight and waking up to feel her reserves almost full. She was ready for more, now.


	14. An Indolent Fire

The next morning, Hitomi was in better shape than she had been in months. She had pushed so hard and so far that her reserves only needed a day to replenish, against a week when they had started training. And yet, they were considerably larger, at least ten times bigger than they’d been before. Most of her progress had been made now, and chakra control exercises weren’t enough anymore to put her in a state of chakra exhaustion, even if she spent the whole day throwing weapons and sticking leaves to her limbs.

She couldn’t wait for time to bring her its own expansion: around her fifteenth birthday, her reserves would be at least ten times larger than they were now. She understood now why her clanmates had been called Tailless Beasts once. If her grandfather and mother could muster such power, they probably never had to suffer from chakra exhaustion. It explained, too, how Kurenai had become a Genjutsu Mistress, able to fool even some Uchiha. Genjutsu, the art of illusions, required a constant flux of chakra from the caster to their victim to disturb the internal circuit of their own chakra through their meridians. Most people couldn’t maintain an illusion in place for more than two minutes, but the rumour said Kurenai could keep one going for days before she got tired. As for Shinku Yūhi, her grandfather, she didn’t know much about him, but she knew he had been a terror on the battleground.

After she was done greeting the sun, Hitomi followed Ensui to a clearing. For the first time in ages, it snowed in the Land of Fire, and the little girl wasn’t sure she liked the drop in temperatures that came with the white snowflakes upon the lands. To keep warm, she had to get her chakra coursing faster through body and wasn’t adept enough yet to do it by reflex.

“Today, you’re gonna tackle an exercise most ninjas don’t practice before being out of the Academy. You’re gonna climb trees without your hands. With each try, mark the trunk with a kunai, as high as you can. Stop only when you don’t have chakra left, or when you master the exercise. Got it?”

Hitomi nodded. She didn’t even need him to demonstrate, since this exercise was so similar to the leaf one. It would probably require more chakra, and better control on her part. She was glad for it. She needed to continue emptying her reserves for at least a few more weeks to reach her full potential. Then she would just have to wait for the years to pass. She probably already had the best reserves in her generation, Naruto excepted. None of the other children had shown really good chakra reserves in the canon.

It had become rare, Ensui had explained one night she was particularly sick, for parents to make their children go through such training. The Hidden Villages weren’t at war anymore, hadn’t been for more than ten years now, and no parent wanted their child to suffer night after night for months, for results that weren’t so great most of the time. This training was truly efficient on kids from the Yūhi and Uzumaki clans, with their predilection for larger reserves. For the other clans, there were other valuable skills to work on: Hyūga children learned the Gentle Fist, Uchiha children trained in Fire Release, Sarutobi children worked on Wind Release techniques… As for the Yūhi, they were gone beyond recovery in a few generations only, burned away by the wars they had helped win. They had been so willing, all of them, to die for their country.

For a moment, Hitomi stayed motionless in the centre of the clearing, convincing her chakra to go in her legs. When she was ready, she ran to the tree she had chosen, an oak rising high over its peers. She only needed a few steps to get to its roots, then an adrenaline rush in her veins to overcome the fear of falling that wanted her to stop and start climbing. A few more steps to adjust the quantity of chakra needed in her feet to stick to the trunk without damaging its bark and she climbed up without difficulty, only stopping when she reached the tree’s summit. She planted her kunai as high as she could then settled on a branch wide enough to support her weight. “Is it supposed to be this easy? Can we start water-walking now?” she chirped.

Her cheekiness made Ensui burst out laughing. He knew this would happen – all the chakra control exercises were similar and, once a student mastered the first, it was quite easy to master the others as well – but he still felt the tiniest bit of surprise. He carefully reached out to the point where he kept his meridians’ perceptions, so he didn’t suffer from them. He then probed in her direction and was baffled to feel how strong her reserves had become. The quiet whisper had become a roar against his skin. He hadn’t expected such progress, not even with her innate advantage. He couldn’t have been prouder.

Water-walking came next, as she had guessed, and it was harder than tree-climbing. She constantly had to adjust the quantity of chakra she used on the water to answer its constant movements, and to strengthen the surface so it could support her weight. She needed a few weeks to master it and, before that, her reserves reached their maximum capacity.

It was time, then, with her reserves expanded and her control improved, for her to learn the first Nara Clan technique. Most clan kids learned that kind of thing at that age and worked on it through the Academy, after classes. The Nara, though, were even more diligent: even the civilians born in the clan had to learn the theory behind the techniques. That way, if a new war was to erupt and kill all the clan’s ninjas, the knowledge wouldn’t be lost. The children would still have someone to teach them. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but already better than most clans had. Who remembered the Uzumaki and their jutsus today?

“Shadows are our best allies,” Ensui started one night, as the fire was declining in the cave they had found for the night. It was raining hard outside but spring was there, giving back their tender green shades to the woods. Ensui didn’t say it, but Hitomi knew they were going to go back in a few months. Before the start of the Academy’s new year, she’d see her family again. This made her happier than she could express, but she also felt something close to melancholy. She wanted to go back, of course, but Ensui had become such a precious person to her. She didn’t want to lose him.

“I know you already know your mind well,” the mentor continued in a soft voice, “and this exercise will push you even further, deeper than the barriers you surrounded your Library with. Go down and down inside yourself, until you get there.” He brushed his fingers against the skin above her navel, but she knew he was talking about her Gate of Wonder, where part of her reserves laid. She shivered, feeling her chakra react to the touch, then closed her eyes and obeyed his command.

She found herself in the centre of her Library and relaxed as she watched over her lair. The meridian cage refracted the light from her lightwell, splashing colour everywhere. It was so pretty… And yet she turned her back on it and walked through rows and rows of shelves until she reached the end of the ground she had imagined to support the whole structure. She had never been there after creating her Library, had never needed a book from this section. It was like discovering it anew.

The only thing in front of her now was nothingness, an infinity of velvety, peaceful darkness. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the ground, letting herself fall into the void. The sensation was incredible, beyond words. She could have stopped her fall at any moment, but she knew she was far, far away from the Gate Ensui had told her to reach. She could see them now, eight stars brilliant enough to light up a whole sky, hearts of blueish pure light lost in a sea of darkness.

Finally, she was able to touch it. She didn’t have a body in her own mind, and yet she was able to sit, to touch, to breathe. She didn’t know how to describe it. Perhaps it was just her thought process trying to wrap itself around a wordless experience. An energy wave hit her and, in the physical world, she started oozing chakra from all the pores of her skin. Without her huge reserves, the effort would have killed her in a mere couple of minutes.

“This is where you’ll find the subconscious link between your shadow and your corporeal self. Find it now.” A voice. Low, husky, like a wave and a hug. A voice she loved so deeply.

Obeying to Ensui had become natural after all this time. Sometimes, his instructions didn’t really make sense at first glance; she had to reach the goal he had set for her to understand what he had truly wanted and struggled to put into words. She had to touch the precise point in her Gate where the line between her body and shadow disappeared to understand, deeply understand, the link he was speaking about.

In the physical world, her shadow reacted violently to her contact, writhing far beyond its natural reach, the one the fire gave it. She stopped breathing for a moment, then the deep and quiet rhythm resumed. She was peaceful, so much so that someone could have thought her asleep if she had been lying down.

“Your shadow is an indolent fire, but a fire nonetheless. It will hurt you if you don’t treat it with the proper respect and carefulness it deserves. From tonight on, you’ll meditate for an hour next to your Gate of Wonder, until you can stretch your shadow at will.”

That first night, and the twelve nights after that, she failed despite her best efforts. The fourteenth night, however, under Ensui’s intense stare, she managed to stretch her shadow until it almost brushed against his. The edges were clearly defined, and the dark shape didn’t seem to want to snap back to her, like an overused rubbed band. She hated the feeling and was happy not to have it this time.

“Congratulations,” Ensui whispered, pride gleaming in his dark grey eyes. “You’re ready for the next step. Tomorrow.”

The following day, he didn’t wait for nightfall to act. Instead of the sparring exercises he gave Hitomi ever since she didn’t need to empty her chakra reserves anymore, he made her stand in front of him, back straight and shoulders relaxed, in a pool of sunshine. Spring had started to settle in the Land of Fire and, once or twice, they had stayed in an inn for the night. She knew what that meant but refused to acknowledge it.

“You’re able to command your shadow when you meditate. It was the hardest part of this training and you managed to do it in a decently short span of time. I didn’t expect anything less from Shikano’s daughter but still, I’m very proud of you.” He hadn’t mentioned Hitomi’s father for months now, not since he had told everything he knew about him to his apprentice. Hearing his name surprised the girl and made her stand a little prouder, a quiet satisfaction on her features.

“You now need to find a shortcut for that ability. You have to be able to connect to your shadow instinctively, to make it answer your commands immediately. I’ll let you find the most appropriate way; it’s your mind, after all.”

With a smile on her lips, Hitomi sank in her Library, a content sigh escaping her chest. She felt safe here. The ribbons made of light floated in their crystal cage, always ready to serve. A deep feeling of peace settled inside her. Her body slowly raised its hands, the fingers from the left curling vertically around the index and middle finger of the right. The Rat hand seal.

She needed something she could touch as soon as she came into her Library. The only object she could reach was the pillar supporting her crystal cage. On the side facing her, she carved the emblematic animals of both the Nara and Yūhi, a deer and a cat supporting each other with a stare. Ensui had told her about the cat, but there wasn’t much more he knew about. The only way to learn more about her own roots would be to go meet her grandfather again. She hadn’t seen him since the morning after the Kyūbi’s assault and she wasn’t even supposed to remember.

“You’re on the right path,” Ensui hoarsely whispered in the physical world. It still felt strange, when she was in her Library. She wasn’t isolated from the outside, could hear, smell, feel, but she could only see the infinity of books surrounding her. She crouched in front of the two emblems and chose the place carefully, halfway between their eyes. It was there. The place she could touch with her mind in an instant, without even having to consciously go to her Library, the place that would summon her shadow.

In the world she had built inside her mind, everything was possible. She could shape her own chakra, make it visible and solid, without losing any of it. A pale blue ribbon made of light appeared between her fingers. When she turned her head, she saw it stretch to the very edge of the floor then fall in the darkness. She knew it was connected to her Gate of Wonder without having to check. It was the most intimate place, the one where she became the shadow and the shadow became her, but she didn’t have time to lose herself there, not now.

She stood up and the ethereal body she used in her Library grabbed the ribbon. Instantaneously, her shadow stretched and caught the one expanding from the Cinder Clone he had left for her to train. Cinder Clones were the Fire Release solid clone technique, and way less powerful than any shadow clone, which allowed her to use her shadow on it without losing all her chakra. She couldn’t catch  _ him _ , that was for sure. He was so much more powerful, so much stronger, the effort would kill her in a matter of seconds. She fully came back to her senses and tested this new ability, making sure she could use it quickly enough for it to be useful in a fight.

“Looks like you’re ready.”

The young girl tensed and met her mentor’s eyes, her hands slowly breaking the hand seal. Her shadow, obedient, came back to her. “I… Ready, shishou?”

“Yeah,” Ensui sighed. “You didn’t think I’d keep you away from the village forever, right?”

Stunned, she shook her head, the movement stiff and a bit shaky. As if he felt her sudden distress, Ensui knelt in front of her and made her raise her chin with the tip of his fingers, the touch delicate and tender. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I left active-duty years ago. The Third knows he can’t trust me on the field.”

It was the first time Ensui really admitted to Hitomi how serious his feud with Hiruzen was. His situation in the village was complicated, but she had had time to guess that. It didn’t stop her from taking her mentor’s hand, so much longer and larger, between her own, gripping it with all her strength. Right now, she looked like the child she should have been, a troubling sight for her master, used to a mature mind inhabiting her frail body.

“I’m gonna work for your uncle, for Shikaku, help him manage the clan until Shikamaru is old enough to do it so he can focus on his Jōnin Commander duties. I’ll have all the time in the world to train you, Hitomi, I promise.”

It was the first time he used that word to talk about her, but it didn’t really comfort Hitomi. She realised, sometimes, like she was now, the extent of the dangers she’d face in the future. She  _ needed _ Ensui right by her side to rise to those challenges. Her shoulders shook, her knees went weak, and then…

And then she felt another chakra touch her skin, a strength she’d identify among a thousand others. Ensui. These past few months, he had given her chakra transfusions to try to lessen the effects of exhaustion. He couldn’t do much, not when she needed to empty her reserves to stress them into expanding, but it had helped. The touch was soft, familiar and comforted her body and her mind alike.

“I’ll always be there to watch you grow, Hitomi. I’ll always be there.”

Whispering those words like a prayer, a promise and a wish, he pulled her in a warm embrace and she closed her eyes, accepting his words and his arms for what they were. The assurance she would never have to face any danger alone.


	15. A Place Like Home

Hitomi now had enough control of her chakra and large enough reserves to be able to travel at a decent speed. She needed a few days to master running on trees, the Konohajin way of travelling, but soon she was following Ensui’s steps. The man took advantage of their last days together to make sure she was as sharp as she could. He didn’t admit it, but he sometimes deviated from the fastest route to sleep every night in an inn and therefore stretch their time together.

Hitomi was aware of that but didn’t hold him accountable for it. The same feeling, the same need was burning inside her. It was easier to cope that way. On the road, he made sure she knew everything he wanted her to, then told her about what he’d teach her in the village, when she’d come home from the Academy. They would have access to different resources in Konoha, like fully equipped labs. Hitomi couldn’t wait to learn new ways to make things go boom.

Finally, they reached their destination, the huge Konoha gates standing open in front of them. A hand on his apprentice’s shoulder, Ensui made her stop before she crossed them. “How are your meridians?” he asked softly.

He knew she had no problem with them, hadn’t had one in weeks, months even. It was just his last card to delay their return to the village. Obedient as ever, the girl sank in her Library and checked her crystal cage. “They’re good, shishou,” she assured him when she came back.

He nodded, satisfied, then brushed his hand against her back to make her take her first step in the village. As she looked around, curious, he signed the registry the on-duty Chūnin gave him. When she had left, she was in such pain she couldn’t really pay attention to the village. This time, she could and did so, drinking in the sights, smells and noise that would one day be as familiar as the palm of her hand.

A few minutes later, she walked toward the Nara land next to her mentor. Only the manner in which she held herself, one step behind and deferring to him, betrayed their relationship with each other. They had adjusted so subtly to their new environment and what was expected of them there that only other high-ranking shinobi could notice it, or the ones who had had a master for themselves. Only they could really understand what was conveyed in their quick glances to each other or the song whispered in the harmony of their gait. A few Jōnin greeted Ensui with a nod, but none deemed him popular enough to stop and talk to him. Hitomi clenched her teeth when she saw that. Her mentor was only a hero amongst his own clan. It made her want to punch someone.

Finally, they got in front of her house, away from the main streets of the clan land. A little brush against her crystal cage made Hitomi aware of her mother’s presence inside. Silently, applying everything Ensui had ever taught her in that regard, she opened the door and took off her shoes. Her slippers were still there in the entrance, but they looked so tiny now… She chose to go barefoot, her voracious eyes taking in that environment she knew so well and missed so dearly.

Her mother was in the kitchen, doing the dishes. She had her back on the door, her curly black hair falling like a waterfall to the small of her back, her hands busy drying a plate. Suddenly, it was all too much for Hitomi, the ball of feelings in her throat bursting and bringing tears in her eyes.

“Mom!” She ran to Kurenai despite the sound of broken table-wear, reaching her in a mere two steps. Her mother's discreet perfume surrounded Hitomi as she hugged her. She closed her eyes, not caring one bit about the sharp shard she had stepped on. She knew Ensui would fix this with no trouble at all. All her new strength was focused on hugging her mom, on taking in everything her senses could to fill the void that had suddenly hit her.

Later, man, woman and child sat in the living room. Ensui had taken the couch to heal Hitomi’s foot after she had dried her tears – and wisely decided to ignore that Kurenai was crying too, remembering how reserved she could be about her feelings. He held his apprentice’s foot carefully, light green chakra pouring through his fingers to take care of her cut as he listened to their conversation.

“… and that’s how I discovered you can find water in cactuses. Can you imagine, Mom? I won’t ever be thirsty in a desert now!”

The two adults laughed gently. They were both trained shinobi, used to completing missions all over the known world for their village’s sake, but the innocence Hitomi showed them was a sweet blessing in their eyes, putting their knowledge in perspective, reminding them how everything they had learned could seem precious and extraordinary.

The rest of the day was blissful. Soon enough, Ensui left mother and daughter to their reunion, going to find Shikaku to report on their trip. Hitomi needed help to settle back in her room and to assess everything that would have to change – mostly her clothes, a few sizes too small now. She only had her travelling and training gear, which would only get her so far. They took more than an hour to fold and store everything in the boxes Kurenai would give to the orphanage in a few days.

For now, it was time for Hitomi to discover what a normal life looked like in Konoha. For the first time, she was allowed to go in town with her mother, beyond the Nara land, to buy new clothes. Before, it had been out of question, and it was weird for the girl to walk past the guarded gate of the land she knew so well to the rest of the village. She didn’t need to fear that kind of pain anymore, she was free to roam the streets Shikamaru, Chōji and Ino had told her about, walk peacefully amongst shinobi and civilians alike, without the tiniest discomfort.

With her mother’s blessing, Hitomi chose her own clothes. She liked shades of grey and red, of course. She picked three dresses, two kimonos and a yukata, but most of her choices were angled toward the Academy, training and home-wear. The start of the school year was so close now. She couldn’t wait.

That evening, they ate dinner at Shikaku and Yoshino’s house. Shikamaru had a surprising burst of energy when he saw his cousin behind the door and hugged her so fiercely it probably hurt a bit – she wasn’t sure and didn’t really care. He had grown, too, and towered over her by more than three inches. He seemed to take after his father, tall and thin just like him, but his features had a softness that belonged to Yoshino.

During dinner, she agreed to tell her adventures again. She didn’t go into details about Gaara but, for the rest, she went into extensive details to please her cousin. His eyes went wide with amazement when she described the couple of fennecs she and Ensui had seen during their second trip through the Sunajin Desert.

She had missed him so, so much.

The evening continued through the night, the two children starting a shōgi tournament to assess their opponent’s progress. Shikamaru had got so much better, his style really close to his father’s now, but Hitomi hadn’t lazed around: she had played against Ensui at least once a day and even more often when they were in Sunagakure.

Before going to sleep, she opened her communication notebook and wrote to Gaara.

_ Dear Gaara, _

_ I’m so happy you’re starting the Academy at the same time as I will! We’ll be able to compare our teachers and classmates, if you want. Today, I got back home, in Konoha. It’s so strange, after so much time on the road. My mom had to get me a whole new wardrobe; rumour is I’ve grown up in a year and a half, but it doesn’t look like it from my perspective. _

_ I understand it’s hard for you to talk to your siblings. I think they know the village gossip about you better than they know you, as a person. Show them the sweet, amazing boy you were with me. You’ll win them over, especially Temari, based on what you told me about her. They’ll be your best allies, Gaara, and you know you need those. Of course, you can always count on me, but I’m too far away to help if something happens to you, something serious and urgent. I’d feel better if you had someone on your side there, in Sunagakure. _

_ At lunch, my mom took me to a gyoza place in town, outside the Nara land. It was the first time I could really go anywhere outside the clan’s territory. Tomorrow, my cousin Shikamaru will take me on a tour of the rest of the village. Gyozas, Gaara… I have to make you try those if you come visit one day. They’re just so good, I promise. _

_ I hope you’re okay. Take good care of yourself and talk to you tomorrow. _

_ Tenderly, _

_ Hitomi. _

After sending her letter, Hitomi got in bed. She was exhausted, but it was only the kind of healthy exhaustion she felt after a great day, the edges of her mind softened by a deep, deep feeling of belonging and happiness. In the guest room, next to Shikamaru’s bedroom, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep, smiling in the dark.

The next day, Shikamaru kept his word. Konoha was beautiful, like a gem gleaming under the cheerful sun, and Hitomi was delighted to finally discover the village’s little secrets, the places where kids liked to hang out to play ninja, and the ones where parents waited for them, chatting about politics and their past missions. Children, here, were incredibly free. In the Previous World, it was unthinkable to let a five or six years old walk alone on the streets. But cars didn’t exist in this world – even horses were only used by nobles who wanted to show off – and safety was assured by the joint effort of the Uchiha police force and the General Forces, composed of Genin who hadn’t managed to get into a Genin team after the Academy but had refused to choose another career.

When she was alone with her cousin, Hitomi gifted him one of her communication notebooks. She had prepared it for him, after all. He was amazed by the possibilities this new way of communication offered and tried to convince her to sell it to the Research and Development Department, but she refused. She couldn’t deem the concept ready for shinobi or even civilians, not when she had so many improvements in mind for it.

Then, she showed him other things she had learned. He looked at her tantō with respect but refused to touch it. If Hitomi seemed made for frontline battle, he definitely wasn’t. Hidden behind people like her, he could scheme and plan in peace, and save thousands of lives – win wars, really. Most children didn’t think about that when they were their age, but they were Nara by blood, raised to think about strategy almost from the crib. He was, though, very interested in the new field control skills she had developed. He particularly liked the flash bombs, so useful to naturally stretch his shadow just for a second. It was all he needed to connect it to the person he wanted to catch.

As they talked about their time apart, the two children also established their plans regarding the Academy. Most students shared the same goal: doing their best and graduating. The Nara Clan, though, didn’t raise kids to just do their best. Shikamaru, for example, had decided to hide in the middle of the class, which necessitated a level of cunning, intelligence, and patience far beyond what was asked of any Genin twice his age. Even some Chūnin wouldn’t be able to do it, but Shikamaru would succeed, she knew it, and he’d manage to pretend it was all involuntary. He was just that good.

For Hitomi, though, this strategy wouldn’t work nor fit her ambitions. She was from two clans and knew it made her future place in one of the three teams to graduate in her year almost certain. By elimination, she had deduced she’d take Haruno Sakura’s place in Team Seven, which meant a whole shitload of trouble in her future. Besides, she felt a moral obligation to find an alternate way for Sakura to get where her canon-self had been: Senju Tsunade’s apprentice, and one of the best medics in the world.

If that wasn’t complicated enough, she also wasn’t satisfied with the idea of taking the First Kunoichi place in the ranking of her year. It would be easy to get, what with all the training Ensui had made her go through, but there was no glory in the position of First Kunoichi. All glory went to the boy who was deemed First Genin. She knew it would be Sasuke and wanted everyone in her year to know she was as good as him, or even better – she doubted she would be, though, she knew what crazy shit he was able to do thanks to the canon. She had to leave her mark on her teachers’ mind, and the only way to manage that was to do her very best to be ranked first at both the theoretical and the physical tests, without failing or any sign of tiredness. Fortunately, it was the kind of thing Ensui had shaped her to do these past eighteen months.

She talked about it a lot with Shikamaru. He would be her closest ally at the Academy, after all. He had had a chance to really socialise with his peers, and she knew he would help her find a place she would like in their class’ dynamic. Sure, she only knew Chōji and Ino outside of the Nara Clan, but that would change.

Another problem would appear then: she wasn’t good at direct socialisation. In the Previous World, she had been isolated and laconic, quick to chase people away, led to loneliness by an extreme wariness and loads of disappointment since her childhood. She hadn’t known anything of the sort since her second birth, but those memories still haunted her. But she needed to befriend some people to make her plans reality.

She still had time to prepare for the Academy, though. When the time came, she would be as ready as she possibly could be, and would do her best to reach her goals. It had to be enough. Failure was unthinkable.


	16. The Academy

Finally, the school year started. Hitomi was impatient and anxious. She had spent the last two months not only getting back to a sedentary way of life, but also working on chemistry. Ensui had helped her and kept his word: he was always by her side when she wanted to train, to get better at anything. In that span of time, she managed to create several kinds of flash bombs with different stunning potencies and areas of effect, and smoke bombs in six different colours. He had also pushed her to practice her accuracy with throwing weapons, arguing that if she wanted to throw all kinds of nasty things to people’s heads, she had to know how to aim.

The year of training she had on her future classmates would soon reveal itself to be an advantage or an inconvenient: either the other children would think she had a lot more experience – at this age, she remembered how a full year looked like an eternity – or they would jump to the conclusion that she had started the Academy a year later because she was lacking compared to other students her age. All stakes would be on her first days of class, on first impressions. Her skin was still lightly bronzed by the Sunajin sun, which would give her a bit of an adventurous look, but it wouldn’t be enough to impress those kids.

The anxiety that was eating her alive during the first day weakened when she saw her mother, waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Rubbing at her sleepy eyes, Hitomi went to hug her then squealed indignantly when Kurenai picked her up and spun round and round until she started to laugh. She knew, already, how proud the kunoichi was to see her make her first steps on the shinobi’s path. In her opinion, she had made these steps next to Ensui, but it didn’t really matter.

“Go greet the sun, sweetheart, breakfast will be ready when you come back. Your uncle will be there in an hour. We’ll go to the Academy with him and Shikamaru. You want to share this special day with him, right?”

Hitomi nodded, a warm and soft feeling spreading in her chest as she realised, for the thousandth time, how much her mother loved and cared for her. She had a hard time considering herself like the child she was, like someone who needed parents, since hers had never been in the picture during her first life. Sometimes, though, she was reminded how precious Kurenai was to her, or of the extremes she’d be ready to devote herself to, to protect her.

An hour later, Hitomi had her arm linked with Shikamaru’s and made him walk in quicker steps than he had planned to. He tried to play the martyr, but she saw the smile he tried to erase from his lips. For him, though, school would be a pain in the ass. Like her, he wanted to become a ninja and protect his clan, but his mind was wired differently from most others. It was so reactive, noticing too much all the time, that even blinking for too long could make him fall asleep. He would get better with that, she was sure of it, but now he was still raw, perpetually on the edge of oversensitivity.

These last few weeks, to Hitomi’s strong surprise, she had been eager to start bonding with her future classmates, and not simply because she could use the help they would lend her in years to come. She knew that Shikamaru would always be by her side, but she wanted more, she wanted friendship, wanted to be loved, wanted the loneliness haunting her at night to disappear. She was so, so tired of it.

Someone had erected a temporary stage in the Academy’s courtyard. People were already gathering in front of it. There were around a hundred future students, a far larger number than Hitomi had anticipated. Yet she knew that in six years they would only be twenty-seven or twenty-eight to graduate. And, in that group, only nine would become Genin under a sensei’s guidance.

Kurenai, in the middle of the crowd, took her daughter in her arms and settled her on her shoulders so she could see the stage. Hitomi was a bit old for that kind of thing but, since her mother didn’t seem to have any difficulty, she didn’t try to get down. That way, she could see the Hokage perfectly, for the first time in her life. He looked frail, especially in that big white robe that came with the hat. She stared at that hat, the symbol of his power over the village. He didn’t deserve it.

In a respectful silence, the children listened as their war chief spoke about the Will of Fire, of her glorious warmth guiding their teachers’ hands as they made their student into the best version of themselves. Hitomi stared at the stage, at the teachers lined up behind their Hokage. She recognised Umino Iruka, with his tanned skin and the scar running across the bridge of his nose, then Mizuki, taller and silver haired. The bastard had a smirk on his face. Hitomi had to bite her inner cheek to stop herself from glaring at him; she knew he would feel it. Anyway, she didn’t have the slightest chance against him now, and even if she had… She couldn’t interfere with Naruto gaining the Shadow Clone Technique. Too much depended on him having it.

The speech was brief but Hitomi had time to grab all the subtleties hidden in it. When the Hokage spoke, he stopped looking frail and turned into the war chief so many people admired, the hero, the Professor, true to his name. He could summon Death itself. Why hadn’t he done it when the Kyūbi had attacked? The village would have been better off if Minato had survived and Hiruzen had died. Of course, his speech didn’t lack propaganda, quite the opposite. She knew what to expect in that regard: this school was in charge of the education of the Land of Fire’s army, after all. Even if Konoha had a reputation as the nice one that didn’t mean high-ranking officers hesitated before indoctrinating six years olds, so they’d one day give their life for their country.

Once the speech was over – did he write a new one every year? – another teacher took the Hokage’s place, a list in his hand, and started calling children to sort them in three groups. Hitomi was surprised by how unbalanced they were: all the clan kids, herself included, were in the same group, the first one to be called. Civilian-born kids brought the group to thirty kids, but that sorting couldn’t possibly be random.

Iruka led them to a big classroom. Light came from huge windows to the left side of the room. They were big enough for people to go through them rather than doors when need arose, which was a common practice in Konoha. According to Kurenai, students would be able to use those in a few years in case of emergency – otherwise, they would use the door, thank you very much.

Hitomi immediately noticed two children she identified as Aburame Shino and Hyūga Hinata, sitting in the last row of the classroom. It was wise, not lazy. What shinobi worth the title would even want someone in their blind spot? Only clan kids were aware of that kind of thing. The girl grabbed her cousin by the arm – he, in turn, grabbed Chōji to make sure he’d follow – and dragged him with her before sitting next to Hinata. With Ino, they occupied a good chunk of the last row, which was also the highest, the others just a bit lower than the one behind them to form steps. From where she was, Hitomi could survey the whole room.

Their first hours at the Academy were quiet – too quiet. Iruka-sensei’s explanations were typical of a first day at school: timetables, gear, mandatory reading, class rules, … Hitomi ended up bored half to death, and she couldn’t stand it. After a while, she discreetly took her communication notebook out of her back. It had turned cold during the Hokage’s speech, but she hadn’t opened it yet.

_ Dear Hitomi, _

_ Have your classes started already? Here, they have, and I’m bored. I’m alone at the back of the class and I feel like it’s not a good thing to do, but Ensui-san always told us to watch our back, didn’t he? There’s no one here I trust enough for that, so the wall it is. They all look at me weird, like I’m gonna get angry and hurt them. _

_ Thing is, once, I could have. Before I met you, I was always so angry at them, all the time. I didn’t understand why they left me alone, why they didn’t want to play with me. I never wanted to hurt them, not really, but sometimes, my sand, by accident… You know how it is. _

_ I tried to talk to Temari this morning, when she took me to the Academy. She was alone, it seemed easier that way. I asked her how she was today and thanked her for going with me. She looked so surprised! But not angry, not at all. I guess you’re right about her. _

_ My teacher is a bit weird but I think I’m gonna like him. Okay, it’s boring right now, but he doesn’t look that strict. Less than Ensui-san was, anyway! The guy in front of me is asleep and the teacher didn’t do anything to wake him up. _

_ I can’t wait for your answer, I miss you. _

_ Gaara. _

A sweet smile on her lips, she got started on an answer for her friend, describing Iruka-sensei, who was yelling at Kiba and Naruto. She explained how the Big Head genjustu worked, and why the teacher seemed to really like that technique. In her opinion, it made him look funny rather than threatening, but she could see how normal kids would feel intimidated by that. Still, she had to fight an eye roll when she felt a shiver run through the students in front of her.

Shikamaru didn’t follow the lesson any better than she did. He was napping on the notebook his cousin had gifted him, his features childish and relaxed. He was so cute when he was asleep. She turned her head to the left and met Hinata’s eyes, which made the girl blush deeply. She tried a gentle smile to appease her, but she knew, deep down, that the Hyūga heir was far too shy to relax at the first sign of kindness.

At ten, the children had fifteen minutes of freedom before going back to class. Hitomi mustered all her courage and breathed deeply, squaring her shoulders as if to make herself taller. That wasn’t supposed to be this hard, for fuck’s sake. “Hi!” she chirped. “You’re a Hyūga, aren’t you? What’s your name? I’m Yūhi Hitomi!” She knew she probably sounded weird, but most Nara were the same. Their reputation had been built ages ago, after all, and Hitomi had been careful to choose a shirt with the clan’s emblem on it for her first day, just like Shikamaru had.

“I’m Hi-Hinata,” the other girl stuttered.

“Pleased to meet you!” She looked at Shino, sitting between Hinata and the window. “And you’re an Aburame, right? What’s your name?”

“Shino. My father often works with your clan. Some insect species can only be found in your forests.” That didn’t surprise Hitomi. The Nara, Akimichi and Yamanaka clans worked together in and outside the village to recreate ecosystems that favoured the growth of very specific medical plants. They used them to create medicine of all kinds, but mostly for shinobi. It was a colossal amount of work, and a lot of civilians from the three clans specialised in that field, but it was worth it for their shinobi, and so they toiled to create the kind of environment rare species of insects needed to thrive.

In the end, Hitomi felt a bit ridiculous for panicking so hard, seeing how easy talking to others was. The two children followed her when she left the classroom and they spent their break getting to know each other, Shikamaru and Chōji walking behind them. Ino, for her part, had made friends with a group of students from their class, mostly girls. Hitomi knew her friend would soon become the queen of her little court.

After the short break, Iruka decided it was time for the students to introduce themselves to the rest of the group. The teacher started to call them by alphabetical order, starting with Aburame Shino, as Hitomi tried to muffle a new surge of anxiety and waited for her turn. She’d be the last, with her last name. When she got a hold of herself, she focused on the other students’ introductions. They stood up when their name was called; she carefully registered all the information they gave about themselves. Their name, age, hobbies, what they liked, what they disliked, their dream for the future.

Then a blonde boy stood up. She knew so much about him, of course, and yet she listened carefully about what he had to say. “… And one day, I’ll be Hokage, believe it!” The mood in the classroom immediately got lighter, except for a tension point in the stage, where Iruka stood. A lot of boys, the ones Naruto had played with during the break, smiled at him. Their friendship seemed genuine, but Hitomi’s heart ached – she knew it wouldn’t last. When those kids would go back to their parents and would be told about the Nine-Tailed Fox, because that was what you did when you wanted to keep a secret, repeating it to six years old children, they wouldn’t even want to talk to him anymore.

“Yūhi Hitomi!”

Obediently, the girl stood up, doing her best to hold herself straight and proud, her two feet firmly rooted on the ground, her shoulder line relaxed, as Ensui had taught her so she could look taller and fearless. “Hi!” she beamed. “My name is Yūhi Hitomi. I’m seven and my hobbies are reading and training. I like shōgi, my family and my clan, but I don’t like red bean paste or being stuck with a problem. My dream is to become a Seal Mistress acknowledged in the whole world. Nice to meet you!”

Many of those children didn’t know anything about fūinjutsu, but Iruka knew what the field was, like all Chūnin. He couldn’t perfectly hide his surprise as he stared at the girl. She looked back at him then sat up. Shikamaru patted her knee discreetly, knowing how she hated to speak in front of a crowd. Thirty kids definitely qualified as such.

The lunch break started thirty minutes after that. Hitomi woke Shikamaru up with a hand on his shoulder, careful not to startle him, then turned to Hinata and Shino, who were taking their bentō out of their bags. “Hey, I had a good time earlier. D’you wanna eat with me?”

As the two children nodded, she wondered how other people socialised all the time. Weren’t they anxious? One look to Hinata, who was blushing again, gave her the answer: yes, people were anxious, and some hid it better than others. She turned to Shikamaru to make him the same offer but, before she could say a word, he met her eyes and rubbed his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Err… Would it bother you if I went to eat with Ino and Chōji? Our parents want us to grow even closer during the Academy. It’s troublesome, but we’d better start now, or my mom will get all angry and stuff and she…”

She cut him with a gentle nod and a smile. She wouldn’t be alone, after all. And even if it had been the case, she was a big girl, she knew how to cope. “Write if you need me,” she just said while drumming on her own notebook for emphasis. She always had it with her and didn’t plan on changing that today. Since she had two pen pals now, she had created sections and linked each of the other notebooks to one of them. She had prepared more sections for more people and prepared the supplementary notebooks accordingly, but she knew she wouldn’t need them for some time.

After grabbing her own lunch, she followed her new friends to the outside courtyard, the one where the welcoming speech had happened. The stage was gone now, like it had never been there. It was larger and nicer than the inside courtyard, but students were only allowed there during lunch break.

The three children found themselves an isolated tree and settled in its blissful shade. Hitomi sat on one of its roots, her back against the trunk, then opened her bentō as her friends did the same with theirs. The Nara clan had taken on the Akimichi tradition to always cook more than needed if food was to be shared, a tradition Kurenai had made her duty to follow for this special day. She had made sure her daughter would have enough to share with her friends if she wanted to. In the end, they put their three lunches in common and picked whatever they fancied while chatting lightly.

Shino, more talkative now that the rest of their classmates couldn’t eavesdrop on them, told the two girls about his clan, their traditions and the role their civilians played in it. Those things, after all, were different from one clan to the other, and it fascinated Hitomi. After a dozen of minutes, the conversation went to the reasons for her late start at the Academy.

“I have a sickness that affects my meridians and could have stopped me from ever becoming a ninja. Fortunately, one of my clanmates, who was born with the same problem, came home from a long mission in a foreign country and took me in. He taught me how to control it while we travelled… In fact, he taught me a whole lot of things so I wouldn’t be sad to start the Academy later than the other kids.

“W-what kind of things?” Hinata didn’t speak a lot, and even less to say something about herself. Hitomi knew how the Hyūga clan could be, so she supposed they had ordered her to say nothing about the clan at school. As she was already such an introvert, it would have been enough to bully her into silence. With a gentle smile she hoped would calm down her friend’s anxiety, Hitomi ate a mouthful of rice before answering.

“Basis for taijutsu and kenjutsu, a lot of chakra control, fūinjutsu… that kind of thing.” She was careful not to go into details. Ensui had taught her the benefits of secrecy, especially about her own skills. Only her trusted allies had the right to know about them, so they could work with her as a team, but, beside that, it was better to say just enough to impress, but too little to give others weapons against her. She doubted Shino or Hinata would or could threaten her, but still, it was a good habit to build.

They continued talking until the end of the lunch break. Hitomi had time to tell her about Sunagakure and her friend Gaara – no one knew who he was here, and she made sure to leave his demon out of the picture. She told them about Ensui, too, and was so ridiculously proud to notice from their reaction that they knew about his prowess. Of course, they knew nothing about his feud with the Hokage: people usually didn’t talk about their war chief’s failures.

When they came back to their classroom, turned over sheets of paper waited for them, placed on each occupied desk space. A test already? Hitomi exchanged an annoyed glance with Shikamaru as they sat down. While she had been so impatient to start Academy, she had taken care to ignoring this part of the process. She sighed and listened to Iruka, then began.

It took her ten minutes to complete it, against the two hours the teacher had given them. Most questions were there to evaluate the students’ reading and writing skills, as well as their general knowledge. All those subjects had been covered by her mother, then by Ensui during their trip. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her cousin correctly answer the exact number of questions needed for an average score, then give wrong answers to all the others. In the same movement, they crossed their arms and put their heads down on them.

As Shikamaru napped, Hitomi sank in her Library to scheme about that part of her life. The following day, if everything went as planned, she’d approach Naruto and would show him her intention of becoming, then staying, his friend. Getting Shikamaru and Chōji to follow would be easy. As for Shino and Hinata, it might be a more complex matter: both were obedient children, and if their parents told them to stay away from the jinchūriki… That being said, she was resourceful. She knew that, if need be, she could persuade them.

When the bell rang, she opened her eyes and woke her cousin up again. She watched him stretch lazily before putting his things in his bag as she did the same. They placed their tests on Iruka's desk as they left. Hitomi said goodbye to Shino and Hinata, then followed her cousin outside.

Her mother wasn’t waiting alone at the gate, to Hitomi’s surprise. Shikamaru, Ino and Chōji’s parents were there too, chatting quietly as they waited for their children to come out of the courtyard. The girl could guess why they were there. She foresaw a clan party in her near future; what better day for a celebration, after all, than the first step in a shinobi life for four kids from their clan?

At home, Hitomi had to let her mother dress her as she saw fit. Kurenai decided the day was important enough to necessitate a kimono and taught her girl how to put it on. Hitomi’s long black hair was tied in a bun, a few curly strands escaping to brush against her neck and shoulders. When she looked at her reflection in a mirror, she saw nothing that would hint at the kunoichi she would one day become. That was good: a shinobi was more efficient if no one had any idea of the threat they represented.

The Akimichi Clan had restaurants everywhere in the known world, but the oldest was in Konoha’s main street. The only way to get a table was to book it weeks in advance and, even then, one had to open their pockets. The party had been organised there, which meant the restaurant was closed for business and full of Akimichi, Nara and Yamanaka, civilians and ninjas alike. They all wanted to pay their respects to the new generation that would soon protect and honour them.

Ensui was amongst those people. Hitomi saw him almost every day, but it still wasn’t enough, wasn’t the same as how it had been when it was just the two of them. She missed him dearly. Amazed to see him in his Jōnin vest – he only wore it for important occasions – she ran to him and hugged him, a beaming smile on her lips. With a little rumbly laugh, he closed his arms around her and hugged her back.

He listened attentively as she told him about her day. She described the test, the introductions, her new friends… and Naruto. He already knew how she felt about the boy and the way the village treated him. He himself found it incredibly stupid to mistreat the only person between them and the demon fox. How could they expect the kid to want to protect them, protect his village, if they treated him, at best, only with coldness and disdain?

Then dinner was ready. For the first time, the children sat with their parents at the table of honour. It was weird for them, which they commented discreetly between two giggles. The food was amazing, of course – how could it not be, when an Akimichi had cooked it? Sake ran abundantly as the children settled for fruit juice.

An hour or so later, it was time for the gifts. The four children went to sit on chairs on the stage, which a band sometimes used, in a corner of the room, waiting together for the adults to bring them their presents. Amongst other things, Hitomi got a calligraphy set from her mother, a chemistry kit from Ensui so she could experiment without sneaking in the labs; from Shikaku, she received eight fūinjutsu books. They all looked really rare and old. Other people offered her gifts, mostly clothes and weapons, but nothing had more value in her eyes than the ones she got from those three adults she loved so much, not even the delicate hairpin encrusted with rubies that could turn in a mortal weapon with the brush of a finger.

She went to bed late that night, a big smile fixed on her lips, and slept like the dead. It was rare enough to be noticed: her sleep had always been light, especially when she went into her Library to spend the night rather than allowing her mind to rest. When she woke up, she was almost bursting with energy, which was for the best: she had a jinchūriki to befriend today, after all.


	17. The Dreadful Demon Fox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I'm late! I'm having a major surgery in three weeks and I have a lot of things to do before then :/

Hitomi had to wait for lunch break to act. Before that, she simply couldn’t see any opportunity to approach Naruto in a natural manner, but she watched him carefully, noting his gloomy face when he entered the classroom and the way he held himself, a bit prostrated over his desk in the first row. She spent that whole morning so angry at the world, at the boys who had played with him the day before, at their stupid,  _ stupid _ parents. She sat there, her back stiff and her chakra so agitated the students next and in front of her could probably feel it. It wasn’t killing intent, not yet, she was too young, but an intent of some sort, that was for sure.

At noon, she engaged Shino and Hinata in a ninja game. The teachers expected their students to play those kinds of games during their free time, so they could practice what they learned in class. They hadn’t learned anything yet, really, but clan children still had skills to work on. Hitomi’s plan to approach Naruto and persuade her friends to follow, was simplistic. “We need one more player to have two teams of two,” she frowned. She made a show of looking around then to light up as she saw Naruto, alone on a swing. “I have the solution, wait for me!”

She took off before they could answer, hurrying to the boy. She didn’t allow her heart to ache for him too much. Wallowing in compassion for him was useless. She wanted to act, not to watch him stay unhappy. Soon, that sad and lonely look on his face would just be a bad memory, she promised herself that. “Hi!” she chirped. “D’you wanna play ninja with us? We need you so we can have teams of two.”

She had expected to have to convince him but, as soon as he heard her voice, his whole face lit up and he jumped on his feet, clearly excited and amazed. Now  _ that _ was more like it.

“I’ll be the best ninja you’ve ever seen, believe it!” he beamed before following her back to Shino and Hinata.

With a grin, she suggested doing girls versus boys. She knew Shino wouldn’t be pumped about getting paired up with the loud and energetic Naruto, but she wanted her friends to grow closer to the jinchūriki too, and was aware that Hinata couldn’t manage if she had to work with someone she didn’t know at all.

That game ended with the girls winning, but not by much. The boys had done well, but Hinata was an excellent strategist when she set her timidity aside and her chakra control was as excellent as you could expect from any Hyūga her age. Hitomi, over the moon, congratulated her friend profusely, making her blush and smile at the same time.

Shino was lecturing Naruto – the blonde boy listened with surprising diligence. The two had been a good pair during the game, scoring points often enough that they could have won if Hinata or Hitomi had been just a bit less efficient together. Naruto’s impulsive and daring nature was a good counterpoint for Shino’s reluctance to act without a solid plan ready.

During the afternoon, they got their first taijutsu lesson. Mizuki-sensei – Hitomi hated associating this sign of respect to the man’s name but she had no choice – was in charge of those classes. For the first day, he just wanted to assess his students’ physical skills. He explained the safety rules they would have to follow in his class, listed the supplies they would need, including wooden shuriken and kunai, then got them started.

First, the students had to run a lap around the courtyard. Hitomi was faster than all the other girls, but a bit slower than Sasuke, who finished first, and Kiba, just after the Uchiha boy. Shikamaru had kept to the middle of the group, as usual. After that, Mizuki tested their strength through muscle-building exercises, including press-ups and sit-ups. Most times, Hitomi beat Kiba, but she could never surpass Sasuke. He always had a few seconds on her, no matter how hard she tried.

Then Mizuki tested their stamina, making them run laps for as long as they could. There, Hitomi truly shone, with her travelling experience. Even Sasuke had to stop, well before she started to sweat, his face red and damp. Finally, the teacher realised he wouldn’t tire her out and made her stop. She obediently came back to her classmates, waiting for the next exercise.

Naruto had done well so far. He had no talent whatsoever for the intellectual dimension of the Academy’s program, but he was in excellent shape and had ranked high in all the exercises. Was it the Kyūbi lending him its strength? If it was the case, he didn’t show any sign and the girl didn’t ever feel, even once, the demon’s chakra manifesting.

After that came precision exercises. Hitomi didn’t have an innate gift for that discipline, but Ensui had mercilessly trained her, refusing to let her settle for an average performance. She had thrown those damned weapons again and again, until her wrists were on fire and her arms couldn’t aim anymore. She could even do it with senbon, the long needles most ninjas didn’t like much but she appreciated their true value. She would never be perfect in that field, but she was  _ good _ , and she intended to show it.

When that class was over, several girls waited for Hitomi in the locker room. She recognised Aimi, a civilian-born student who was trying to overcome Ino as the leader of the crowd. She wasn’t eloquent or pretty, but her size and strength made people respect her instinctively. Wary, Hitomi waited for one of the girls to speak, shifting quietly to a defensive position.

“So apparently you’re better than anyone around here uh?”

Hitomi shrugged, staring down at the other girl. It was a hard feat, since Aimi was a few inches taller than her, but she managed. Fights weren’t exactly forbidden out of taijutsu class, if you didn’t seriously injure your opponent, but she preferred psychological warfare against other children. “If you want to surpass me, Aimi- _ chan _ ,” she said with a sweet, dangerous smile, “you should train a little harder. You did okay earlier, after all.”

_ But I was far better than you, _ was left unsaid but still painfully obvious. Hitomi didn’t get any pleasure from pushing another kid around, even if that kid was already showing herself to be a fucking pain in the ass. Still, she wouldn’t hesitate to go harder on her if she didn’t settle down and accept the situation. She  _ would _ take the first rank, at least amongst the kunoichi of their year, whether Aimi liked it or not. There were very few things she wouldn’t sacrifice for that goal, and the ego of a pitiful little bully wasn’t amongst them. An air of disdain on her face, she grabbed her things and pushed through the girls like they were nothing. Like all bullies were.

Shikamaru was waiting for her outside with Ino and Chōji. Naruto, Hinata and Shino were there too. All looked various degrees of worried, except maybe her cousin, who knew more than anyone what she was capable of when she was in danger, or just crossed, really. After all, they had trained together for the last two months, mostly under Kurenai or Yoshino’s supervision.

The two women were waiting for them at the gate, as if the mere thought of them was enough to summon them. Now  _ that _ would come in handy during a fight, Hitomi thought with a smile. Kurenai’s thoughtful stare fell on Naruto, who was telling his new friends what he would do to Kiba if he continued ignoring him the next day. Hitomi knew the Inuzuka boy would come around, but she understood Naruto’s wounded reaction.

Kurenai, though, didn’t say anything before she was alone with her daughter, both working on dinner. Hitomi loved gyoza and was humming a tune as she put seasoning in the mix of grounded meat and vegetables that would fill the delicious little dumplings. Her mother had promised to tell her the full recipe one day, since it was an original. “So, sweetheart,” the woman started gently, “you hadn’t told me you were friends with Uzumaki Naruto too. Did it happen today?”

The girl stiffened slightly, glancing at her mother before going back to the filling. She didn’t try to be discreet about it; nothing could really surprise Kurenai. “The other kids have decided to leave him all alone today. Yesterday, I heard parents say mean lies about him. So, at lunch, I decided to ask him if he wanted to play ninja with Hinata, Shino and me.”

“And I gather it went well?”

“Yeah, of course it did! He’s really nice. Well, he’s a bit loud and obnoxious sometimes, but he hasn’t done  _ anything _ wrong. He doesn’t deserve to be isolated like that for something that was never his choice, something that saved the whole village.”

Kurenai gasped. Hitomi gave her a bored look, like she hadn’t just mentioned an S rank secret. “Mom, everybody in my class knows, even the civilian-born kids. That’s not a secret, or no one should ever trust the adults with secrets again.”

Kurenai burst out laughing and messed with her daughter’s hair with a playful hand. “That bad, uh? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I wasn’t going to forbid you from seeing your friend. You could invite him to dinner here, tomorrow evening. The orphanage is not really the happiest place in town after all…”

Hitomi nodded, a relieved smile on her lips. She wasn’t certain she would have had the guts to confront Kurenai if she had decided to stop her from being around Naruto. She respected her and loved her so much, the mere idea of disappointing her filled her with anxiety. It would have been dreadful, harrowing, to be forced to choose between her mother’s approval and the path she had decided to follow years ago.

The next day after class, Hitomi invited Naruto to dinner and was astonished to see him blush up to the ears. When he got down to it, he could even compete with Hinata. A hand to her lips to hide her smile, she shook her head slightly, moved by the intensity of his reaction. “Don’t worry, okay? My mom just wants to get to know my friends. She’ll be delighted to meet you, you’ll see. And she’s such a good cook!”

That night, after dinner – delicious, just like she had promised – Hitomi settled her guest in the living room. He kept looking around, seemingly astounded, and she understood he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. She did everything she could to put him at ease, ignoring his manners when they got awkward. She knew no one had taught him how to behave in someone else’s house.

“I was wondering, Naruto,” she said after a bit of chitchat, “do you know why you have a hard time with Iruka-sensei’s lessons?”

He lowered his head, obviously ashamed. She put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently to encourage him. “I try to listen, you know, I really do, but I get bored so quickly and I can’t focus on what he’s saying when I get like that. So since I can’t focus in class I tried to read the books he told us to read, but the kanjis keep changing and getting mixed up in front of my eyes. I don’t want him to think I’m lazy…”

“You’re not lazy, Naruto. You just need a little bit of help, and you’re going to get it, you see.” What he described looked like what most people thought dyslexia and hyperactivity were. She didn’t know much more herself, but she  _ could _ help him. Help him work, help him study, make sure he didn’t fall behind. As long as he was trying, she would be able to support him.

The next day, the ranking was waiting for them in the Academy’s hall. Hitomi wasn’t surprised when she saw it: she was first on the girls’ side and tied with Sasuke, who was first on the boys’ side. Naruto was last in the written test but decently ranked in the physical one. Shikamaru was somewhere in the middle of their class. As Hitomi had foreseen, the children from the two other classes had far lower results than her own classmates. So it was intentional.

This discovery didn’t disturb her. In class, she continued doing her best, always pushing further than what the teachers expected. When she came back home, she made Naruto study by short sessions of fifteen minutes, explaining again to him alone what Iruka had taught them that day. This worked marvelously with the little boy, but not enough to push him to the top part of the ranking in written tests. At least he wasn’t dead last anymore. The tests were still hard for him, but he understood, she could see it in his big blue eyes. And his reading and writing  _ did _ improve, which was important too.

When Naruto went back to the orphanage – before dinner during the week and after on the week-ends – the day wasn’t over for Hitomi yet. Ensui arrived around that time and trained her too, making sure she didn’t lose any of the skills she had acquired during their journey together. When he wasn’t available, Kurenai trained her daughter herself. She had gone through it first, after all. Even if the village had been at war when she had graduated from the Academy, the competition had motivated her too.

Her correspondence with Gaara – and Shikamaru, too, sometimes, when theoretical lessons were too boring but he didn’t want to nap – was her breath of fresh air. The Sunajin told her, day after day, how he grew closer to his sister, who was starting to warm up to him. He had tried to approach Kankurō, too. To the jinchūriki’s deep surprise, he had just had to congratulate him on his proficiency with his puppets to make his elder brother feel safe with him. The boy seemed happy, calm, and Hitomi was immensely proud of him.

One night, though, those feelings were smashed to pieces, giving space to a cold, cold wave of panic. As she was getting ready for the night, she felt her communication carnet turn cold against her leg, where she had put it after closing it an hour earlier. Her belly twisted into knots by a bad feeling, she opened the notebook and felt like her heart was sinking from her chest.

_ Hitomi, help me, please! I was attacked by my uncle tonight, he said he was doing it because my father asked him to and I think I killed him, please, help me, I don’t know what to do! _


	18. Turmoil in Sunagakure

The few words scribbled on the page by Gaara made Hitomi jump on her feet. She knew it would happen, of course, but not this early. Her heart thundering in her chest so hard it was painful, she took a pen and answered hastily.

_ Go find Temari and explain. She’ll help you. I’m gonna ask Ensui-shishou to go there as quickly as he can. I love you, Gaara. Be brave. You’re not alone. _

As soon as the page was infused with chakra, she put a jumper on over her nightgown and opened her window wide. Her notebook in hand, she jumped to the garden one floor down, strengthening her legs to handle the fall. Without losing anything, she started running. Ensui’s house was on the other side of the Nara lands, not so far from the entrance, but she got there faster than she ever had and started pounding on the door, calling her master in a panicked voice.

“Hitomi? Are you okay? What is it?”

For once, she didn’t notice his pyjamas or his sleepy eyes. “It’s Gaara, shishou! He’s been attacked by his uncle and begged for help. He… He needs help. Please. Can you go to Suna and protect him? Please, I’ll do whatever you want.”

The shinobi stiffened with shock, unable to hide his emotions for a second. He got a hold of himself and put a reassuring hand on his apprentice’s shoulder. Even in the dark, he saw how frantic she was. This feeling wasn’t of any use for ninjas, but she was still so young… she would learn. “Show me his message, kiddo. Calm down, take deep, slow breaths.”

Her hands shaking violently, she obeyed, opening her notebook to the correct page to show him. Gaara’s message hadn’t disappeared yet. It made her almost physically sick to watch the clumsy kanji on the page – the young boy was always so careful to write them precisely, he must have been really terrified to let go of this habit. Hitomi’s powerlessness made her throat constrict, made her breathing shallow and laboured. She wanted to go help Gaara, to go  _ now _ , but she knew it was impossible. She was too slow… and what could she do, anyway, against trained Sunajin Jōnin?

“Okay… Listen carefully, Hitomi. I’m gonna go prepare and leave as soon as I can. Tell Gaara that I’ll be with him in three to four days. Until then, he has to stay with his sister at all times. If his father is behind all this, other shinobi won’t want to take the risk to hurt her. Before returning home, go find Shikaku at his place and tell him everything. Tell him I’ll come back when your friend is safe. I’ll keep you posted with his notebook. Take care, kiddo.”

Ensui’s voice, so calm and decisive, appeased Hitomi immediately. He always knew what to do. She nodded, her bravery coming back to her like a warm wave, and opened her notebook again as he came back inside.

_ Gaara, are you with Temari yet? Don’t leave her side. Your father’s men won’t dare to approach you if there’s a risk she could step in to defend you and get wounded. Ensui-shishou will take three to four days before he gets to Sunagakure, just the time to run there. Take good care of yourself, the both of you, and keep me posted.  _ _   
_ _   
_ __ Hitomi.

The message sent, she turned her back on her mentor’s house. She didn’t want to wait, to see him go. That would be too painful, even if she knew it was for a good cause. She ran to Shikaku’s place, ignoring her protesting lungs and the cold air on her naked legs. He was probably getting ready for bed when she knocked: he opened the door, still in his uniform, except for pyjama pants. Still, he listened to what she had to say, probably worried by the distress he could see on her face.

“I see,” he sighed. “Keep me in the loop, Hitomi, and do your best for your friend.”

Hitomi nodded then went back home. She felt so cold inside, so weak. By the living room window, she saw that a lamp had been switched on and made out her mother’s silhouette, pacing around the coffee table. She had probably heard her go out; not much escaped Kurenai’s vigilance, especially not a first-year Academy student, no matter how good she was.

“Where were you?” the mother asked when her daughter got to her. Hitomi was relieved that she didn’t hear any accusation in her voice, only a gentle and sincere concern. To the brink of tears, she ran in her arms and nuzzled her head against her neck, where the skin was so soft, so warm. She needed this, needed it so much.

“I went to see Ensui-shishou. There’s… There’s turmoil in Sunagakure. Gaara’s father has tried to get him killed. I’m so scared for him, Mom…” She didn’t need to say more. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her and held her close, with gentle strokes against her back. It soothed her a bit: her body relaxed at least, but her mind still agitated. She hated feeling so useless.

“He’s gonna update you on the situation, right? You have already done the best you could by sending him Ensui, sweetheart. He already left, right?”

“Yeah… He told me it was gonna take him three to four days to get there.” Hitomi knew very well how much time it took a shinobi to travel that distance. It felt so short, and an eternity at the same time. In three days, Gaara could die a thousand times. It was terrifying for her to know she had done everything she could and that it could still possibly not be enough.

Gaara would only be six in a few weeks, which meant someone had pushed the Kazekage to act earlier than planned against his son. Could it be  _ her _ ? What if, by stabilising him, giving friendship and tenderness, she had distracted him from the hatred that was supposed to turn him into a weapon like his father had wanted? A jinchūriki that didn’t obey blindly was no use to such a man.

And yet the idea that  _ she _ had even the slightest influence on a fucking  _ Kazekage _ seemed preposterous. She was just a kid, for fuck’s sake! She wasn’t even supposed to have influence over her own family – and, yeah, okay, she had some, but only because she had developed an unfair weapon, the Stare, and not because she had real power over them. The Stare most definitely  _ hadn’t _ made the Kazekage even more of a fucker than he already was.

“You should try to sleep now, sweetheart. It’s late and you have school tomorrow.”

The girl nodded, understanding. She could have just asked for the permission to stay home, but what good would it have done for anyone? She would, in the long run, be more useful to Gaara if she didn’t miss a class and tried her best to surpass her own performance every day. Staying home wouldn’t bring them any benefit.

However, the next morning, she realised how anxious the whole situation made her feel. She could barely listen to what Iruka was teaching them – fortunately, listening was enough for her to never forget. She kept a hand on her communication notebook at all times just in case it would turn cold, afraid she’d miss a message if she stopped touching it even for a second. She had received one in the middle of the night: Gaara had informed her that he had found Temari and she had taken him to safety, in a disused guarding post along an old border. Now the country had spread a hundred miles further in that direction, so no one ever used it anymore. It was barely a few hours from the Sunajin Gates, so it would be easy for the two children to find Ensui there.

The true surprise, for Hitomi, had been to read that Kankurō had been included in their plans, and was helping them too. One year Temari’s junior, he had just graduated from the Sunajin Academy, whereas his sister had one year of experience on the field. They were only nine and ten years old – according to Gaara, Sunagakure didn’t have the same standards as Konoha about their shinobi – and yet they were brave enough to help their little brother in a time of need.

At least Gaara was in better company than she could have hoped for. Admittedly, his siblings weren’t exactly the kind of strong shinobi she would have liked to guard him, but they could fend for themselves. Besides, they would bring him the kind of emotional support he truly needed. He would feel loved, cherished, more than Hitomi could ever make him feel through their letters.

And never mind her heart screaming that she should get back to Sunagakure. Never mind the feeling of emptiness, of coldness that invaded her mind when she realised how powerless she was to help him. She could at least continue talking to him, and in the long run she’d help more by being stronger, by graduating, by being free to travel through the Elemental Nations without an escort. As for the girls who glared at her because she had beaten their idol once… Well, when they’d be a real threat, perhaps she’d worry about it.

When she got back home, she was surprised to see her mother getting ready to go out, and not only to run a grocery errand. Was she already seeing Asuma or was it someone else? She didn’t dare to ask. Kurenai was secretive about her feelings and her relationships.

“Ibiki-san will babysit you tonight, okay sweetheart? Ensui is away on a mission with your uncle and Yoshino is away with Shikamaru to see her family. Ibiki-san owed me a favour so… You’ll be good, right?”

Hitomi quickly hid any sign of nervousness she could have let slip through the net and nodded in answer with a quiet smile, not even looking up from the book she had to finish reading before the following Monday for Iruka’s class. She still had to explain the last few chapters to Naruto so he would understand them. “Yep, don’t worry. Uh, before you go, could Naruto sleep here tonight? We have to study for the Academy.”

It was the perfect excuse so she wouldn’t have to spend the evening and the night – probably – alone under the same roof with _the_ _best interrogator from the Torture and Intelligence fucking Department._ To Hitomi’s relief, her mom nodded in acceptance. She closed her book and ran outside, decided to fetch her friend and come back before nightfall.

Naruto wasn’t hard to convince; the two children were already working, bent over their books, when Ibiki arrived. Hitomi had to bite her inner cheek to stop herself from smiling as she caught the very discreet hesitation in the man’s behaviour when he saw the young jinchūriki. It was subtle, because you didn’t end up leading the Torture and Intelligence Department by throwing up your emotions in other people’s faces, but still, she had seen it.

The girl hugged her mother goodbye, watching her leave the house and walk down the alley. She seemed so relaxed, so happy, eager and impatient to join her date for the night. She was so beautiful in her dark green dress, the wind playing with her hair. Glorious, really, in the sweetest way a kunoichi ever could be. When Hitomi couldn’t see her anymore, she focused on Naruto, not caring one bit about Ibiki after he had greeted them both.

“So, the Elemental Nations are called that name because each of their names is one of the elements the chakra can naturally take in a shinobi’s Gates. We live in the Land of Fire; the other ones are the Land of Wind, the Land of Water, the Land of Lightning and the Land of Earth. Those five are considered the most powerful on several fronts, mostly military and economic. They all have a Hidden Village, like Konoha, but other countries have ninja villages that are too small to deserve that title.”

“Ah, I see!” Naruto beamed. “Do they do everything like us there?”

“Uh… No, not exactly. For example, after graduation at Konoha, Genin are paired in groups of three, each under the orders of a Jōnin-sensei. At Kumogakure, Hidden Village of the Land of Lightning, shinobi are often organised in teams of two. Sunagakure, Hidden Village of the Land of Wind, organised its ninjas by squadrons based on their skills until recently, but, at least for their Genin, they started to copy Konoha’s system. They saw it was efficient during the Chūnin exams, which are public.”

“Sunagakure, it’s the Village where you went with your shishou, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Gaara, the friend I made there, would like you very much. You could be good friends! He’s really sweet, just like you.” Without even trying to be subtle – sometimes, manipulating from the shadows was less efficient than throwing her intentions in the face of her victims – she stared at Ibiki, whose posture stiffened somewhat in the chair where he sat. He had listened carefully to Hitomi’s explanations, sometimes nodding with approval.

He cooked dinner for them as Hitomi helped Naruto with his calligraphy. He was still pretty bad at it and hadn’t passed any of Iruka’s tests. In the shinobi world, learning disabilities like the one the jinchūriki probably suffered from weren’t at all taken into consideration. You had to follow the rhythm or be left behind. As if Naruto would ever surrender.

After dinner – which she had to admit was quite good – Hitomi took Naruto to the garden. She felt Ibiki’s chakra behind her back; he had obviously decided to guard them perfectly. Maybe he was afraid of Kurenai’s reaction if something happened to her friend or her. After all, if gossip was to be trusted, her mother had the reputation of being terrifying when she was crossed. She had won her Chūnin exam’s tournament and had only used genjutsu from the beginning of the exam to its very end. All of that meant something in Konoha.

Darkness was falling slowly over Konoha, but that didn’t bother the girl at all. She could feel Naruto’s chakra; before her journey with Ensui, the boy’s very proximity would have made her scream in pain, but now she could manage and only felt a wave of warmth when he stood in front of her. Her voice gentle and confident, she taught him the opening kata Ensui had taught her an eternity ago, correcting his stance again and again. She congratulated him after each bit of progress, each success, and the infinite motivation in his big blue eyes was her reward.

Later, when Naruto was in the shower, she went to Ibiki, determined. “Do you play shōgi?” she asked while looking him in the eyes.

He had a little husky laugh, a deep and gravelly sound who reminded Hitomi of Shikaku. “You really  _ are _ a Nara, ain’t you? Yeah, I play. Would you like a game or two?”

She nodded and went to fetch her board, settling the pieces in a few quick movements. When Naruto left the bathroom, still drying his hair, he found them both bent over the board, frowning and focused on the game. Of course, Hitomi lost that one, but Ibiki looked at her with interest as she put the pieces away.

“You have a peculiar style, d’you know that?” Ibiki asked.

“Learning to play with Nara Ensui, Shikamaru and Shikaku would do that to anyone, right?”

He laughed again then went back to his duties as the kids focused on their books again. Hitomi foresaw a test just after the weekend and it was out of question for Naruto to fail that one.


	19. A Study Group

The idea came to Hitomi as she was explaining mathematics concepts to Naruto. It really wasn’t her strongest subject, and she had a hard time finding the correct words to explain the steps to solve the exercise Iruka had given them. She would have liked to have Shino on hand: he absolutely loved maths and was patient enough to explain again and again to the blonde boy until he got it right.

Her thoughts drifted to other students from her class and their specialty. Hinata knew all the subtleties of the Land of Fire’s traditions. Shino was the master of all fauna and flora, and really good at mathematics. Shikamaru was the king of strategy, and Ino never missed a hidden code in any situation. Before graduating, they would all have to master all those subjects, and not only their specialty.

The study group emerged from a conversation during the lunch break. As always, Hitomi, Hinata, Naruto and Shino sat on the roots of their tree but, for once, Shikamaru, Ino and Chōji were there too. Usually, they ate lunch away from the rest of the group and they came back together in class – they were all sitting in the last row now.

“You should include Sakura in that group,” Ino said. “She’s very smart and she works a lot, even if she doesn’t have a preferred subject. She’s good at everything theoretical.”

Hitomi nodded, a smile on her lips. She hadn’t forgotten that Sakura would become Tsunade’s apprentice one day – and if it didn’t happen exactly like in the canon, she’d force the events in another way. She would have her place in the world, Hitomi would make sure of it. “I’d like Sasuke and Kiba too, but I don’t see them agreeing to work with a group. Too proud, the both of them.”

“Yeah but Sasuke is  _ so _ cool,” Ino sighed.

That made Hinata and Hitomi exchange an amused look. Ino wasn’t a fangirl – she had dignity, she was clan-born, a heiress, after all – but she clearly had a little crush on the Uchiha boy, like a lot of girls from their class. And the other classes. And the other years. Still, it was funny to see them chase him. They didn’t have the slightest chance with him, now or ever.

“We could also get a head start on the program, maybe even free some time to learn things that don’t even come up at the Academy.”

“Like the katas you show me when we’re at your place?” Naruto asked.

“Exactly. Ensui-shishou taught me things we’re supposed to learn during the next few years. Are you in?”

The other exchanged glances before Shikamaru answered. “More work? What a drag… But I guess we have to do it if we want to be the best of our year.” This line released the slight tension in the group. Even Hinata laughed, a quiet, light sound muffled by her hand. She was, without a doubt, the most emotionally fragile person in their group and, since no one could do anything about her family being assholes, it had become a habit for Hitomi and Ino to invite her to spend the weekend at their place.

Hitomi stiffened when her communication notebook turned cold against her thighs, where she had put it so she could eat. She never allowed herself to stop paying attention to it, hiding it as best she could during tests so she would still know when a new message arrived from Sunagakure. Her friends, whom she had explained the situation to, helped her in that complicated undertaking.

Ensui had arrived at Sunagakure and found Temari, who had led him to the place where she and Kankurō were hiding Gaara. Since then, the man taught them, just like he had done with Hitomi. He was more than able to cover the Academy program for the youngest, and to teach new tricks to his older siblings. The siblings had started taking missions again but visited as often as possible, be it to bring provisions or simply keep Gaara and Ensui company.

Shikaku had let out a loud sigh when he learned that his newly found right-hand man was to spend four – or more likely six – years in the Sunajin Desert, since no other solution could be found. Then Gaara would become a Genin and would be able to fend for himself. Hitomi had felt a bit of selfish sadness but had quickly buried the feeling far beneath the surface of her mind. Gaara was safe. It was exactly what she had wanted. She’d miss Ensui, but she could cope with his absence.

And it wasn’t like she couldn’t talk to him: he sent her a message every night, after the one Gaara always sent her. She didn’t even feel that lonely, not with all the friends surrounding her. The boy had a far more urgent need than her for friends and adults. She could share, even if she wanted to see her mentor.

A few days later, she went to the first kunoichi class. It wasn’t exactly mandatory, but only a small part of all female students could graduate without following those lessons. Hitomi didn’t think it was very fair: she lost two hours twice per week, while the boys were free to go cloud watching – Shikamaru – or train even more – Naruto.

Fortunately, she wasn’t alone. Ino and Sakura were there too, but not Hinata, who probably had access to far better tutors at home. Hitomi hadn’t found a way to approach the Haruno girl yet about the study group but a perfect occasion presented itself while Ino was explaining how to choose the best flowers to go with her lily. The blonde girl elbowed her lightly to make her look up and nodded to another part of the Academy’s garden, where Aimi and her goons were surrounding Sakura. That couldn’t be a nice chat. Leaving her bouquet behind, Hitomi stood up and went to them, Ino on her heels.

“What do you know about beauty, Aimi?” she drawled, as cold and cruel as she could be. “Leave more intelligent people alone and work on your own skills, if you even have some, you’ll make everyone happy.”

The girl couldn’t stand the fact that Hitomi had taken first place in the girls’ ranking and always tried to start arguments with her. Usually, one mean comment was enough to make her lose her barely existing wits, and the young Nara exploited that time to get away. But this time Aimi reacted, balling her hands into fists and taking an opening fighting stance. Hitomi adapted immediately, falling in a defensive position between Sakura and the girl.

However, Aimi didn’t have time to attack before Ino  _ moved _ , throwing flowers in the other girls’ mouths, not only Aimi’s. As her friend explained about the poisonous properties of the flowers in question, Hitomi focused on Sakura. “Are you okay?” she asked gently. “I’m so sorry about Aimi, she’s insufferable. She can’t stand it when someone is better than her, and you definitely are better than her in class. She’s just a pathetic bully who prefers pulling people down rather than fighting to the top.”

And just like that, it was settled. Sakura joined her meetings in the courtyard, and the study group supervised by Kurenai, two hours a day after school and four hours on Saturdays and Sundays. Often, those sessions continued until dinner, especially when Hitomi tried to explain notions that were a bit too complicated to her friends. Slowly but surely, their little group progressed, each of them receiving Iruka’s compliments regularly – except for Shikamaru, perfectly satisfied with feigning mediocrity. Even Naruto had his fair share of encouragement from the teacher, which made him incredibly proud.

One of Sakura’s hidden talents was calligraphy. Her parents, rich kimono merchants who had left the Land of Tea to settle in Konoha a few years before having children, had taken care of teaching her all about it when they saw she had a talent for it. As Hitomi studied a treatise about storage seals borrowed from the Hokage Tower’s Library – it was only available for Chūnin and up, but, eh, it wasn’t her fault if they couldn’t protect their documents – her pink-haired friend looked over her shoulder to see what she was working on. “Oh, those are complicated strokes. You can do that?”

“Not quite yet,” Hitomi sighed. “The seals I created until now are mostly transfer seals, the strokes are easier. Ensui-shishou told me he was gonna help me learn those ones, but since he’s in Sunagakure now…”

“D’you wanna try with me? In exchange, you could tell me how all this fūinjutsu thing works in general.”

Hitomi thought about it for a second then nodded. Fūinjutsu was a disappearing art, despite its usefulness and potential. The girl understood she couldn’t give the precious knowledge to just about anyone but, even in Konoha, the village known for the Seal Masters it had brought into the world, the people able to do more than copying store-bought seals were rare.

That afternoon, after class, the two girls went to the Haruno household. Sakura had to pick up some of her calligraphy books to guide her friend through complicated exercises. As she went to fetch them, Hitomi talked about the Academy with her parents, describing the teachers and lessons. Apparently, communication was complicated in the family: the adults didn’t understand why, of all possible careers, their precious little girl had decided to become a kunoichi.

A bit later, they walked back to the Academy but had to stop in the middle of an alley, far away from the busy streets. A man, mid-twenties perhaps, his brown hair cut short, stood firmly in their way, his big arms crossed over his muscular chest. Everything, from his posture to his stare, darkly satisfied, screamed trouble to Hitomi. This was a trap. She was certain of it when, turning her head to the left just far enough to see, she spotted the silhouette of another man in her peripheral vision. “Sakura,” she warned in a low voice.

The girl hummed in understanding then pressed her back against Hitomi’s, covering the angle she couldn’t see. Ensui had taught her how to react to an ambush of that sort and to hell if she wasn’t going to fight back. She fell in a defensive position, one of her hands finding the kunai strapped to her forearm, inside her sleeve. Her master had shown her how to hide a weapon on her body at all times. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her red eyes analysing the situation. Sakura had just started on katas a week ago and couldn’t send chakra in her muscles. She was a civilian, for now.

And herself… She was good, yes, for a student, around the strength and skills expected of a Genin. She had a weapon and could fight. She stared at the man in front of her; she had chakra to enhance her skills, but she had never beaten an adult, let alone two of them. They were just civilians, but even then… Her focus came back to the threat as the man in front of her pulled out a knife.

“You’re gonna come with us like nice little girls, the both of you. If your parents are clever, we ain’t gonna do nothing to you.”

Hitomi answered by stepping toward him, all her muscles buzzing with chakra, then hit his knee with a side kick. Behind, she heard Sakura getting to work too. Her own opponent groaned and fell to his knees, swearing through clenched teeth. She didn’t allow him to react before punching him in the temple. If she had been stronger, she would have stunned him or even knocked him out cold, but he just groaned again and retaliated. With his knife.

Hitomi yelped in pain when the blade drove in her right thigh. For a dreadful second, she froze, then she overcame the shock and, strengthening her hand with all the chakra she could muster, she backhanded him so hard he fell backward, his head hitting the ground hard enough that he didn’t get up again. She hadn’t even used her kunai. Stupid.

When Hitomi turned to Sakura, her eyes went wide with horror: the other man had a knife too and was slowly getting the upper hand over her friend, whose arms were covered in bleeding slashes. Hitomi hurled herself in that direction but her brain screamed she didn’t have time, she’d be too late, her lips opened on an anguished sob as the knife initiated its descent toward Sakura’s chest. Her chakra went from her hand to her legs so fast it was visible for a second, enhancing her muscles. Still not enough.

And then  _ he _ was there, his hand stopping the knife easily. His eyes turned from Uchiha black to Sharingan red. Hitomi froze again, shocked to the core, when she understood  _ who _ , exactly, had saved her friend. She recognised the necklace around his neck, the stress lines on his face that would slowly spread under his eyes, year after year, until he was consumed.

And disappeared.

Except if she could prevent it.

Before she could react, he moved, speed and elegance embedded in a deadly, sharpened body. His other hand hit the thug’s throat and, as he fell to the ground choking, Itachi disarmed him, knocking him out with a fast hit to the head. Then he went to check if Hitomi’s opponent was unconscious too, his arm brushing against hers for a second.

He only relaxed then, his tall silhouette losing a bit of presence as the Sharingan dissolved in the black of his eyes. Using it against two civilian thugs was probably overkill, but Hitomi had heard that the Uchiha activated it on reflex when they were angry. He studied the girls with a long, inquisitive stare, his eyes stopping on each of their wounds. “Come here.” His voice was unbelievably soft and made a shiver run down Hitomi’s spine as she obeyed, limping hard. Sakura looked terribly shaken, pupils contracted to little dots in her green eyes and tremors running through her body.

“I’m going to make sure those two are taken to the police station to be interrogated, then take you both to the hospital. Everything is going to be okay, now. You’ve been so brave, the both of you.” His tone was calm, quiet, comforting. He was obviously used to talking to children – one in particular. Her lips a thin line, Hitomi watched as he used a kunai to nick his index and summoned a raven, ordering him to fetch the policeman patrolling a few streets from there.

Adrenaline was dissipating in Hitomi’s body, its disappearance awakening all the small and large aches of the fight. The worst was, without a doubt, the one burning her leg, where she had been stabbed. She felt blood running down her skin from thigh to ankle, a sickening sensation. Her dizziness became stronger with each passing second, especially when she started going through chakra exhaustion. Her muscles ached, her hand throbbed. She had probably broken a few bones there by hitting the man so hard.

“Easy,” Itachi whispered as he caught her before she fell on the ground. “I’m sorry I didn’t step in faster.”

Hitomi’s eyes met the young boy’s. They were still sharp despite the strain the Sharingan had put on him – she could feel his chakra levels, after all. Quick maths made her realise he was just twelve years old. In a few months, he would kill his entire clan, because no one could stop that chain of events. Hitomi was only seven. There was nothing she could do, not without revealing her deepest secret to the world, and she couldn’t do that. Not even for him.

“Thank you for stepping in at all, Uchiha-san,” she mumbled. “You saved Sakura.”

He gently shook his head, a smile on his lips, and signed Sakura to come closer so he could examine her wounds. “It was my duty. Here’s the patrol. Just hang in there for a few more minutes and you’ll be at the hospital, okay?”

Hitomi hummed in approval and closed her eyes, all her aches fading in a blissful wave of darkness.


	20. The Fading Clan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to thank you all for the support and the love you show this story each time I update it. I'm going through challenging times and planning for a major surgery in March and your words are a great help! Thank you ♥

When Hitomi regained consciousness, she was in a hospital room. She took a few minutes to understand, but she couldn’t confuse that smell with anything else. She pressed her lips with displeasure and turned her head, looking around. Shikamaru slept nuzzled against her flank. Her mother sat at her bedside, her eyes fixed to the door as if to guard her. Sakura was sitting in another bed and talking with Shikaku in a low voice while he took notes.

“Mom,” she mumbled in a surprisingly hoarse voice.

Kurenai started and turned her head to her daughter, her hands immediately stroking her cheeks tenderly. The touch brought tears to Hitomi’s eyes – she didn’t quite understand why – and she closed them, fighting against the need to cry. It was stupid. She didn’t have any good reason to cry. She let out a little groan, hating the hard time she had to simply think. She felt like her thoughts were mired in a thick sirup, which was terrifying for someone like her. She shook her head slightly once her mother’s hands were on her shoulders, trying to get her usual efficiency back. “I need to train harder.”

It was probably something stupid to say, since it made Kurenai, Shikaku and Sakura laugh. Hitomi frowned, her lips forming a pout before she could stop them. Okay, it probably wasn’t something people said when they woke up in the hospital after being stabbed, but it was the truth! She needed to learn how to defend herself against all types of opponents, even adults.

“We’ll talk training when you’re up and about again,” her mother said, tenderness and amusement in her tone. She stroked her hair and Hitomi leaned in the touch, fighting to keep her eyes open.

“About that. What’s the situation?” She emphasised her question with a gesture of her hand. She couldn’t see her leg, but she recognised the sensation of bandages around it. It wasn’t painful yet, but she knew it would come. Medical ninjutsu wasn’t miraculous. That was what Iruka repeated each time he told his students about that field, but she disagreed. Medical ninjutsu  _ could _ do miracles in her eyes; but what ninja skill couldn’t?

“You come home tomorrow and can get back to the Academy in a week. Until then, you’re forbidden from any intense training.”

Hitomi groaned in frustration but fought the desire to roll her eyes. A week just seemed so freaking long… Pouting, she stared at Shikamaru, still asleep against her side. He hadn’t moved since she had woken up, but she suspected he was only pretending to sleep, like he often did. She knew he would bring her homework and notes from Iruka’s lessons but, for Mizuki’s class, she was fucked. She sighed, already planning all the training she’d have to go through once she was cleared if she wanted to stay top of the kunoichi.

“My father will come to see you during the week, to tell you about the Yūhi clan. He should have done so months ago, but it was hard for him to find time… Anyway, you shouldn’t be too bored with all the things he wants to tell you.” Kurenai smiled and took her hand, careful not to press on the bones she had broken. They had been fixed by medical ninjutsu but were still a bit sore.

Hitomi frowned, surprised. Yūhi Shinku was a loner. She remembered a few visits, including the one after her father’s death, but he spent a long time away on diplomatic missions out of the village. When he came back, he rarely took time to see his family, which made his willingness to teach her something a bit strange. But what did she really know about the man? This whole thing would be interesting, no doubt about it.

Her mother made sure Hitomi was resting. For the hospital, she had brought her two adventure novels as well as a language-based puzzle book. Hitomi had discovered those a few months ago and she couldn’t get enough of them. She wasn’t allowed to work on Academy stuff before coming home the next afternoon, and her mother made sure she relaxed. She also brought her food so she didn’t have to eat the hospital meals, so Hitomi wasn’t too mad about that deal.

One afternoon, as she was learning to prepare the lemonade she loved so much under Kurenai’s guidance, Yūhi Shinku decided to pay them a visit. He looked out of place in the peaceful house, with his Jōnin uniform and the tension running through his body without respite, as if he couldn’t see anything but a battlefield wherever he was. It was so rare for ninjas, especially Jōnin, to get to know their grand-children – and yet  _ he _ was still there. He had probably seen too much to be able to play civilian, even for a few hours.

Hitomi followed Kurenai’s instructions to the T, preparing a tray with tea and biscuits before bringing it to the coffee table. It was included in the kunoichi cursus, but Hitomi had finally decided she wanted her mother to teach her and had dropped out of the class entirely. Her gestures still a bit clumsy, she presented biscuits to her grandfather after pouring him a cup of tea. He stayed silent for a few minutes, content with sipping on his tea, then seemed ready to speak.

“Well before ninjas decided to build the Hidden Villages,” he started in a soft, weary voice, “the Yūhi clan was one of the first to choose the Land of Fire as their home. The members of our clan weren’t as easy to identify as Yamanaka or Hyūga were, for example, and that discretion was their strength. For a long time, they thrived, careful to mingle with carefully selected civilians so they wouldn’t become inbred and weak.” He took another sip of his tea, his red eyes so similar to hers staring right at her, as if to make sure she understood each and every word. Knowledge was power, and she was fascinated by the one he was giving her.

“Our clan’s characteristics were transmitted by the father or the mother, but only the women could awaken the different powers the clan amassed through generations. When the village was founded, some scientists wondered why, but we still don’t know to this day. For a long time, our clan was entirely matriarchal, like the Inuzuka clan. Those were the only two clans with such a power system.”

“What changed?” asked Hitomi in a soft voice?

“My father was born. Since we became part of the village, the clan had started to fade, but my father’s birth was the last nail in the coffin of our lineage and traditions. His mother was an only daughter, you see, and after him, she couldn’t have children anymore. All the other branches of the clan had disappeared, one after the other, destroyed by the three wars. We were, after all, perfect for the frontline.”

Hitomi nodded, fascinated. She was probably a bit unsettling, staring at her grandfather with such avidity, but she couldn’t feign the distant and polite attention that was probably expected from her in this kind of situation – in fact, she had never been good at it. Ensui had told her more than once that he found her adorable when she gave him that look, but she had often seen people pull away when she stared at them that way.

“After that, things just got worse. My father died a short time after I was born, and my grandmother a few months after she had started teaching me. In Konoha, the law states that a clan can only retain that title if it’s composed of at least three members linked by blood. When you were born, we could reclaim the title and, if I survive until you get your own children, we’ll keep it.”

For a moment, tension surged in the room. It wasn’t killing intent, not at all, but an intent nonetheless, so intense that his chakra made it almost physical. Then Shinku sighed and the sensation passed, dissipating into thin air.

“To me, however, our title isn’t the priority. Our traditions and our history are far more important to me. I don’t care if you decide to have children or not, if I get to know them or not. What matters to me, more than anything, is that  _ if _ you do have children, you tell them what I told you today, and what I still have to tell you, so our clan is never forgotten.”

The child nodded, solemn. She felt her mother’s presence, a few steps behind her. She had probably received the same words from her father when she was younger. Had Shinku dropped all his hopes and her shoulders too? It was a heavy charge but, compared to Hitomi’s other self-assigned missions… Yes, it seemed easy compared to the other things on her plate.

“Our clan,” he continued, “has always been considered minor. Despite this, our characteristics were very useful during the numerous conflicts that happened before the Founders Era, and then during the Shinobi World Wars. Foreigners started to call us Tailless Beasts during the first war.”

“Ensui-shishou told me that,” she said respectfully. “But is it… Is it an accurate comparison? I know I have a lot of chakra for my age, and that my reserves are only going to expand with the years, but compared to jinchūriki…”

“Trust me, it’s accurate. Look through the village’s archives when you have time, particularly for the first two wars.”

Hitomi thought about it for a few seconds then decided it would be as interesting as he hinted. The only man alive to bear that title to that day was Hoshigaki Kisame, former member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist turned Akatsuki nukenin. If that title meant she was to possess one day the kind of power he had, she had to be warned, she had to prepare, and quickly, so she could pick the shinobi arts she wanted to specialise in, on top of fūinjutsu and kenjutsu.

“Our history often blended, in the past, with the history of other clans. We first were considered a very secondary branch of the Uzumaki Clan but, when Konoha was founded, our clan leader received an offer that was hard to turn down: the hand of a Uchiha son, from the main family. He was only a third son, not much in the inheritance line of his clan, but he gave us so much through marriage and, later, lineage.”

It was commonplace amongst the clans: daughters and sons who couldn’t inherit were married in other clans to forge new alliances. The person wedded in that way gained a little more power for the rest of their life, and their descendants gained all or part of their genetic abilities.

“Is it why we don’t look like the Uzumaki?” Hitomi asked as she poured another cup of tea for her grandfather.

The shadow of a smile appeared on his lips. “Exactly. The Uchiha’s black hair is transmitted to all their children, even in families far away from the main branch. It’s also because of them that we have red eyes, although we could never awaken the Sharingan. Some researchers from the Land of Whirlpools tried to figure out why, but they could only muster that it was an incompatibility between the Sharingan and our own Kekkei Genkai.”

It took all Hitomi had to stop her from choking on her tea. “We  _ have _ a Kekkei Genkai?”

“We had one. You know what a Kekkei Genkai is, right? They are categorized in several types; the most well-known are the dōjutsu, with the Sharingan and Byakugan, and the Hiden, like the techniques only the Nara clan can use. Our Kekkei Genkai fell in that category. The nature of this power, what it did or meant, has been lost since the end of the first war, when the Konohajin Library burned. No person alive in this world remembers what we could do then, but I suspect…”

Hitomi stared at her grandfather, an all-consuming curiosity lighting up her big red eyes. She was stunned, fascinated by all the things she was learning that day. However, she took Shinku’s assertion about no one alive remembering the Yūhi Kekkei Genkai with the appropriate grain of salt, since she knew of at least two people having survived the First Shinobi World War still being alive. And, one day, she would have to fight them.

She wouldn’t be alone in that venture, though, she knew it. She had befriended Naruto and, if she wasn’t exactly at ease when it came to creating meaningful bonds with people, he had such a talent for it that it made her a bit jealous. She had Gaara, too, and Shikamaru. The three boys were probably the people from her generation she offered the most trust to; Naruto because he wouldn’t betray her even if his life depended on it, Gaara because he truly loved her and was terrified by the mere thought of hurting her, and Shikamaru because he’d been raised to think family was all that mattered, even before the clan or the village, just like she had.

“The most useful gifts the Uchiha offered us, what convinced our ancestor to accept this suitor as her husband, will be offered to you in turn when you’ll start your last year at the Academy. It’s a summoning contract.”

Hitomi’s eyes went wide. She had thought about signing such a contract, especially since Ensui had expanded her chakra reserves with his extreme training regime. She only knew of a few of them, the ones mentioned in the canon, and her research had established they weren’t accessible to her. But if Shinku had one to give her… He answered her question before she could ask, amusement gleaming in his eyes.

“It’s the Nekomadake Forest Cats contract. They are considered minor summons, but don’t underestimate them. They are individually weaker than the serpents or toads, that’s true. However, they only take one summoner per generation for a very good reason.”

“Mom, did you sign that contract?” Hitomi pipped.

“No, I didn’t. Since my childhood, everyone knew I had a strong predisposition for genjutsu and cats weren’t a good pairing for me, but Father made them do awesome things when he was at war. I signed the Dragonflies contract when my shishou offered it to me.”

Were there that many summoning contracts? What was certain for Hitomi was that the canon vision of this whole thing, with the Spiritual World divided in three realms for the three main species of summons, was critically simplistic. After all, didn’t her grandfather just mention a fourth one? She was sure there were even more.

“Hitomi,” her grandfather said, “Nara Ensui did the right thing when he shocked your chakra reserves into expanding, but he couldn’t have known you would get our contract. Unless… Did he offer you another one?”

Hitomi shook her head, lost in thought. She was wondering about the cats’ skills, and how she could mix them with her fighting style, the one she was already starting to develop and would continue to do for years to come. She already knew genjutsu wasn’t the right pick for her. Her mother had talked to her about it a few times since she had started the Academy and, if she acknowledged the power of illusions, the girl’s instinct told her that her own path was elsewhere.

She knew, for example, that she wanted to focus on kenjutsu, even if she hadn’t yet found someone to train her intensely. Her choice of weapon almost made her want to talk to someone who was or had been ANBU, but how could she even explain that she knew about their ties with the secret services? For a while, she’d train with her mother, since Ensui was in Sunagakure.

Then there was fūinjutsu, of course. With the creation of her communication notebooks, she had reached a kind of plateau, one she struggled to overcome. She knew it would pass. After all, all Masters had been capable of far more than just combining a few basic seals – because, really, once she had had the idea, it hadn’t been more complicated than that. The hard part had been stabilising the whole seal, and she knew she’d have to go through that with all her creations. She was currently working on storage seals and explosive seals, which was already far more than expected of even a Genin.

But it wasn’t enough, not for her. She didn’t know her elemental affinity yet, but she knew she would want to use it on the battlefield. Those powers were too flexible, too strong, for her to ignore them, especially with her chakra reserves. She also could count on the Nara techniques, even though she wouldn’t learn the next one before she was a teenager.

And then, there were all the minor but oh-so-useful talents she had: battle chemistry, her sickness turned sensor advantage, the battlefield control skills Ensui had taught her. She also wanted to learn more about psychological warfare, the basis of medical ninjutsu, and make her chakra control good enough to be useful in a fight.

Add the ninja cats to the mix and her arsenal started to look really good. It made for an awful lot of things to learn, to research, to develop, but… but she knew the results would make it all worth it, one day.


	21. Ten Future Rookies

Coming back to class was a bit strange for Hitomi. Her friends welcomed her as if she’d been through war, even if she had just been wounded. Okay, it was a worrying wound for a child but, compared to what she would face as a shinobi, what they would all face, it was absolutely nothing. Hitomi herself only vaguely realised what was awaiting her in the future, and only because she had seen Ensui’s scars, and knew what the canon had in store for her friends and her. She only had an abstract idea of the pain such terrible wounds would make her feel, and the consequences it would have on her mind.

She needed a bit of work to get back in shape for Mizuki’s class. She hadn’t run for a week when she came back, but the teacher didn’t see it as an excuse to take it easy, and she had to agree with him. The opponents she would meet later in her life wouldn’t politely wait for her to be back in top condition before throwing their worst at her, and she would always have to be able to give them her best.

No matter the consequences on her body, her mind, her soul.

No matter the guilt, the “I should have done better”, the physical exhaustion, the mental weariness, the apparently insurmountable difficulties, the thousands of mountains she’d have to cross and the seas she’d have to reroute. Shinobi had a moral duty to always overcome the person they had been the day or even the instant before. It was the reason why children weren’t allowed to skip classes anymore in the Academy. With Kakashi, Itachi, Shisui and so many more, the Third had finally seen the waste and consequences of burning all those flames too early, too fast, too hard.

In the theoretical class, she wasn’t behind, thanks to Shikamaru. Naruto, however, had suffered from her absence. He had come to see her at home almost every day, all cute and careful around her, but he had refused to make her work, even if it was to help him as she wanted to. When she saw the public ranking of their year, the day of her return, she saw how many places he had lost – she wasn’t ranked since she had not been able to pass any test the previous week – and couldn’t help but feel guilty about not helping him. He smiled and pretended not to care, but she knew that, deep down, it affected him.

For that exact reason, she put him back to work with a renewed focus, and herself at the same time. She had to get stronger so that that kind of wounds didn’t happen again, not against opponents that weren’t worthy of her time and of the time she’d spend healing afterward. A similar flame burned in Sakura’s eyes. The lucky girl had only missed two days of school. Hitomi was a bit jealous but also glad her wounds hadn’t been as severe as the ones she had suffered herself.

During Iruka’s lessons, Hitomi had started to take note of what he was saying but presenting it in another form, adding all the related information she had gotten from her family and Ensui on little cards for Naruto. This system had proven its efficacy when she was in college in the Previous World. She remembered full well the money she had made by selling her decks of cards, one per subject. It wasn’t about money, this time. She just wanted to help her friends.

Her cards immediately got a lot of success in her circle of friends. They had even developed a memory game with the decks she started to hand them at the end of each week. They drew a card, read the first five words and the other player had to recite the rest of it. It was a good game that made them memorise all her cards and the valuable information on them.

The game ended up attracting Inuzuka Kiba’s attention. He was friends with Naruto again, but had never really shown any interest in joining their study group, or even just in staying with them all during breaks. He was content enough with the playful rivalry opposing him and Hitomi during the speed tests in Mizuki’s class. The girl hadn’t ever won twice in a row against the Inuzuka boy, no matter how hard she tried, and that only made her try harder.

One day, as Sakura, Hinata and Shino played the memory game – Shikamaru and Hitomi had been forbidden from doing so and usually referred – Kiba approached their tree. Several times during the week, Hitomi’s friends had noticed he was listening to their conversations. Only Naruto, who wasn’t the most observant person, didn’t know. “Uh… Hitomi-san?” he asked politely.

That was uncharacteristic of him. Kiba wasn’t the kind to waste time with social niceties – most times, Hitomi wasn’t even sure he  _ knew _ the rules in the first place. Staring at him, she slowly nodded, leaving Shikamaru to supervise the game – her friends hadn’t stopped but were on their guard, just in case.

“Yes, Kiba-san?” she answered in the same tone. She could play this game too, after all. She allowed a sweet smile to appear on her lips as Kiba got his dog Akamaru, perched on his head, to go down in his arms so he could pet him. He always did that when he was nervous and probably didn’t have any idea how telling this simple gesture was.

“My ma… My ma says I have to get better in Iruka-sensei’s class. My results aren’t enough for her.”

Hitomi nodded and gestured for him to continue. Oh, she had a rather precise idea of what he wanted, but she was still a bit crossed with him: a few weeks earlier, he had made fun of their study group and hadn’t apologised. Okay, it was commonplace for children to laugh at each other, but she didn’t want to make it easy for him.

He shifted his weight, scratched his cheek, and continued. “Uh… I heard you helped Naruto study and he’s getting better. Could you help me too, please?”

Hitomi had absolutely no intention of refusing, but she feigned a slight hesitation, just to make him squirm a little. She hadn’t liked the way he had laughed at her precious study group. It appeared that a childhood and adolescence spent, in the Previous World, bullied by her cruel classmates had taken its toll in a deeper and heavier way that she had initially thought. After a few seconds, she smiled and gestured for him to come closer. “Of course I can. Here, you can borrow my deck of cards while I create one for you.”

Kiba’s eyes went wide as he took the deck of cards she was handing him. “But how are you gonna make a new one if you give me yours?”

From the root he was sitting on, Naruto snorted loudly. A smirk on her lips, Hitomi pretended to glare at him and pushed him with her foot, just hard enough for him to lose his balance without falling. “Study the set on Kirigakure instead of playing smartarse. If you know it well enough tonight, I’ll convince Mom to cook ramen for us.”

She let him choke on his own saliva then swear he was going to know them by heart, ‘believe it!’, turning back to Kiba. “Trust me, I already know them all. I’ll bring you your deck in two days and, after that, I’ll give you the new cards once a week, like I do for everyone here. Now, listen carefully, here is how the game works…”

Under Shikamaru’s amused stare – the others were either busy eating, playing or frantically studying the Kirigakure cards – she started explaining the rules and briefly went over why she and her cousin only refereed. Before the end of the break, Kiba was perfectly integrated in their group, like he had always been part of it. Just like Naruto, he had that luck, those instinctive social skills that made Hitomi both slightly admirative and secretly jealous.

A few weeks later, Hitomi realised the amazing feat she had accomplished: eight of the nine ‘rookies’ from her generation in the canon presented an united front, and she was a member of that group, seen as a dear friend by each and every one of them, as someone they could count on. She would probably never feel the crushing loneliness that had been constant in her first life. Her family loved her, her friends loved her. She wasn’t alone anymore and, if she had to finish this life in a hospital, she knew she wouldn’t spend her last moments listening to the echo of her weakening breath against the walls of an empty room.

It was hard to admit how much her first life influenced the way she lived her new one. She was frightened by the mere idea of being alone, physically or mentally. When she studied in her room – she far preferred the living room – she couldn’t spend an hour without checking for chakra around her, just to make sure she wasn’t alone in the house; when she was, her gut clenched painfully. At the Academy, she always sat in the last row, but felt uncomfortable if the chairs next to hers were empty, which made her one of the last to sit down each morning.

Shikamaru had understood the unease she felt at the idea of being alone. He didn’t speak about it, but his looks, his body language, were clear and appeasing. He always had an eye on her and, when she had to speak on the little stage in front of the class, mostly for exercises given by Iruka, he stared at her, consciously giving her someone to talk to rather than the group the students represented.

She knew she would grow out of this fear one day. As a shinobi, she would have to, but it was even more important considering the enemies she had chosen for herself. She would have to fight some of them alone, so no one was ever harmed by them again. Her path was still nebulous, hidden in deep and thick shadows, but she already had some certainties concerning her future.

Gaara hadn’t been pleased to learn she had been attacked and stabbed – neither had Ensui, of course. Both had sent her long messages filled with worry and the adult had been very close to strapping the little jinchūriki on his back and taking him to Konoha. The mere idea of the diplomatic incident this would have caused made Hitomi shiver in anxiety. She had managed to reassure them by writing every day to explain the details of her health and remission. Even with that, she could still read the worry between the lines of Gaara’s letters.

To shake off her frustration, Hitomi had started to work on a plan to get Sasuke to join the study group. He was always first in the ranking, but she was always so close on his heels she could have surpassed him by sheer luck. She was slightly better in Iruka’s class but he always had a large enough lead in Mizuki’s class to keep his first place. She approached him when he was leaving the locker room, taking advantage of the fact that he was alone for once. “Sasuke-san?” she asked politely.

“Yes?” he answered with a weary glance in her direction. He didn’t have much luck with the girls in their class. Hitomi and Hinata were probably the only ones to leave him alone. Those kids were only six! How could they even think about having a boyfriend? It frightened the girl sometimes, to see her classmates pursue him with such intensity. As if Uchiha Sasuke was going to even notice them… The only important person in his life was his older brother. Still, her choice of particle, the -san rather than the -kun the other girls used, seemed judicious enough not to make him flee.

“I’d like to spar with you. I know you’re stronger than me, but I want to get better before we start sparring in class.”

He stared down at her, which was easy since he was taller than her; she didn’t step back or let herself feel intimidated by him, though. “What is in it for me?” he drawled.

“I think you will make progress too by sparring with me. I know I don’t look like it, but I’m strong and my shishou taught me how to fight. I could also teach you the basis of kenjutsu, if you’re interested and, of course, I could welcome you in the study group so your results in Iruka-sensei’s class would be even better.” She kept a straight air during her plea. She didn’t want him to think she was begging, it would ruin the effect. She was watching him, though, and she saw the interest he was trying to hide when she told him about kenjutsu.

“ _ You _ know kenjutsu?” he asked warily. She knew how much he admired his brother, and it was a skill Itachi hadn’t passed onto him, but was renowned for. Soon, the boy wouldn’t be able to teach anything to his baby brother. She suppressed a shiver; she couldn’t do anything about it. Not yet, anyway.

“As I said, I mastered the basis,” she answered with a shrug. “My shishou was an ANBU captain once. Before we came home from our trip, he wanted to determine what kind of weapon I would like to use, so I could do okay with it, just in case. If you come home with me, I can show you.”

“You wouldn’t offer me knowledge without a proper compensation.”

“Well, that much is obvious. I only offer knowledge without compensation to my friends. But, as I said, I want to get better at sparring.”

She didn’t mention the study group again. She knew she didn’t need to, since she had Sasuke’s attention. He was still a child, appreciative, jealous of a brother he would never surpass, saddened by his father’s impossible exigences. So easy to play. She refused to feel guilty about it: one day, he would need the support system she was offering him without his knowledge. She knew she was doing the right thing.

She saw him measure her with a stare and did her best to adopt Ensui’s posture, relaxed but vaguely threatening. Maybe she should start using the same dark green eyeliner… Nah, out of the question. She could hear from here the hysteric laugh the on-duty shinobi at the gates would throw at her if she did that.

“We can try, yes,” he said reluctantly. “But if you’re not good enough, I’m not going to waste my time training with you.”

Hitomi nodded, a peaceful smile on her lips. She knew Sasuke was arrogant and a bit of a prick – everyone knew that. And everyone knew, too, that she was even more self-assured than he was. Eighteen months on the road with a living legend tended to do that to a child. If Ensui had been able to see her value, so would the younger Uchiha brother. Her gait a bit jolly – she couldn’t allow for total exuberance, it was undignified – she took the boy to one of the Academy’s training grounds.

They weren’t as large or as interesting as the ones true ninjas could use, but they worked out okay. The one they picked had a little grove and was cut in half by a stream. Almost by reflex, she turned her back to the grove, allowing its shadow to embrace her. The sun was low in the sky, but they still had a couple hours of good light before sunset. Anyway, in case of trouble, she could still use the flash bombs Ensui had taught her how to make. She suppressed a wicked little giggle.

The two children started in a typical way, their still clumsy fingers forming the Seal of Confrontation. Hitomi didn’t waste a second after that, throwing herself at her opponent. Ensui had taught her a style of taijutsu that was fitting her small, delicate build. It was all speed and flexibility, made her hit as close to vital points and nerve bundles as she could without seeing them – not everyone was born with a fucking Byakugan – then backing away as quickly as possible, before retaliation happened.

She managed to hit Sasuke on the right pectoral, her open left hand slamming against the flesh hard enough to leave a bruise, then rolled under his extending harm to dodge the hit coming for her shoulder. He only brushed against her harm, staggering from the impact. The time he needed to recover was enough for her to back a meter away from him and take the opening stance again, her muscles tense and her legs ready to react. Ensui hadn’t put her through an extreme stamina or speed training – all training ended up extreme with him anyway – considering her too young to go through it without risking serious injuries. He had promised to do it after she graduated, and she shivered with impatience just thinking about it.

She hadn’t even recoiled like he had expected her to that day, only beaming at him so hard her cheeks hurt a little. She loved training, even and especially when he pushed her so hard, so far beyond her prior skills, that she was in pain afterward. Deep inside, she had been overjoyed as he had made her stress her chakra reserves into expanding again and again, even if her body had made her feel like she was in agony, because she had  _ felt _ herself progress every day.

It didn’t stop her, the morning after sparring with Sasuke, from collapsing with a dramatic moan on Hinata, who blushed but caught her and stopped her fall, exactly like she had anticipated. That way, she of course attracted the attention of all her friends who had already arrived in the classroom, Shino and Sakura. A pained groan escaped her lips as she straightened up just enough to lie on her desk, her arm invading Hinata’s space. The Hyūga girl didn’t seem to mind: she patted her wrist, looking quite pleased with the whole situation. Hitomi filed that information away with another groan.

“Good morning to you too,” Sakura said. “What have you done this time?”

Half offended – only half, because everyone knew how hard she pushed herself in training, and how little she listened to people telling her to be careful – she opened her mouth to answer and closed it so fast her teeth clanked when Sasuke walked into class. Without any hesitation, he walked to her, ostensibly ignoring the painful way she bore herself as she straightened up.

“When do you organise your study group?” he asked.

“Every day after class for two hours, and from two to six in the afternoon the Saturdays and Sundays.”

“I’ll be there. Add two hours with me on Tuesdays for kenjutsu and on Fridays for taijutsu.”

She beamed at him then, so bright he recoiled slightly by reflex. Oh, she would  _ love _ using the Stare on him, she was sure he would be sensitive to its effects. Still smiling, she extended her hand. “Deal!” she chirped.

He hesitated before taking her hand but, when she wiggled her fingers encouragingly, he gave in, his reluctance as obvious as it was overacted. “Deal, then.” Without another word, he went to sit down at his desk, leaving Hitomi still beaming – so much it was upsetting, didn’t she know shinobi were supposed to show dignity, restraint and impassibility? – behind him. He tried very hard not to wonder in what impossible situation, exactly, he had just stepped.


	22. The Second Year

After that little event, the group Hitomi had had in mind from the beginning was complete. The ideal situation, for her, would have been getting her hands on Hyūga Neji, Mori no Tenten and Rock Lee, but she couldn’t see a way to make it happen: they were their upperclassmen and didn’t want anything to do with younger students, even though Kurenai taught their study group things that would never be tackled through the Academy program.

The young mother made sure all ten children knew how to get checked in at the hospital. For that to happen, she had just let them injure themselves while sparring, then took them to the waiting room and explained the procedure while illustrating it with their own example. It was very informative and Hitomi was sure most Genin would be at total loss when they would have to seek medical attention for the first time.

Kurenai also gave them theoretical lessons. One afternoon at the end of winter, she gathered them around the big picnic table she had paid a Genin team to install at the beginning of the school year, when it became clear Hitomi would bring her friends home very often. When they were all sitting around her, she told them about the payment a ninja received after a mission.

During that talk, Hitomi and her friends discovered how crazy rich the Jōnin were, and how even Chūnin wouldn’t ever fear poverty. Even Genin had comfortable means. They learned that each clan had rules about the part of the pay a shinobi had to give them for maintenance. For example, with the Nara, Akimichi and Yamanaka clans, half the money went to the ninja’s pocket and the other half was used to provide for the clan: its land, but also its children, elderly, sick, and wounded. What was left of that part went to the scientists of the three clans, who worked together to create what their ninja would need for their missions, and thus to bring back more money.

Later, Hitomi and her mother had another talk, just with Shikaku and Shikamaru this time. The Nara Clan was the only one to have a whole infrastructure dedicated to research and development. The Yamanaka had a kind of equivalent for psychology, the Aburame and Inuzuka worked together around fauna – in short, each clan had its specialty and systems to support it. The Nara, with their sharp minds and strange sense of creativity, explosive and lazy all at once, were quite rightly considered the inventors of the village. The Uchiha, for example, owed them all the different shapes of shuriken they liked so much, for instance.

Hitomi and Shikamaru thus learned how to file a patent under Kurenai and Shikaku’s supervision. The two parents demanded that they always did it with the Nara branch of the Research and Development Department rather than using the village’s one, first because they would get better royalties for their discoveries, second because it was an excellent way to support the clan to allow them to commercialise the concepts they had created, third because, if their findings were considered too dangerous or inappropriate, they wouldn’t be punished, just warned – extreme cases excluded, of course. The adults didn’t expect their children to have such a problem, but one never was too careful.

A few weeks after that, they went through the end-of-the-year evaluations. They wouldn’t be determining the young students’ future, but the parents of most children at the end of the ranking took them from the Academy and sent them to the civilian school, estimating that, if they couldn’t face the first exams of their life, they would be killed quickly during real missions. They were right. Hitomi had watched some of those kids. They didn’t have what it took to become a shinobi, and had mostly wanted to try because they wanted to become heroes. The ninjas weren’t heroes. They were the monsters waiting for the good people to fall asleep before they acted. It had never bothered her to think of her future self as such.

The overall ranking of their year didn’t surprise anyone. Sasuke was first, Hitomi on his heel by one point. She had been better than him in theoretical fields, but all the training he provided her with in the physical ones wasn’t enough for her to become his equal. After all, he’d made some progress too there. Mizuki had been reluctant to admit how far the two students had come, but he was that way with everyone, so Hitomi didn’t take it personally. She still hated his guts on principle, though.

Then came, in that order, Hinata, Shino, Ino and Sakura. Chōji and Kiba weren’t as dedicated to their studies than those four and thus were ranked under them. As for Shikamaru and Naruto, they were the only ones to be ranked far below, in the middle, amongst civilians: Shikamaru because he had intended it so, and Naruto because he had started the year dead last and was slowly climbing his way up. Kurenai, very conscious of his efforts, made sure to invite the little jinchūriki to the party she had planned to throw for Hitomi alone at first.

_ Hitomi, _

_ Congratulations on your second place. I was certain you would make it. Continue to make me proud. Gaara works hard too. I had his chakra affinity tested last week: he got Wind, and Earth as a secondary affinity, the perfect combination for Shukaku’s host. Your mother should do this for you very soon. Depending on your results, I’ll have D-ranked and even one or two C-ranked techniques to teach you once I’m back home. I know it’s supposed to be left to your future sensei, but you are still my apprentice and I want to pass my own knowledge to you. _

_ I miss you, kid. Take care of yourself and of your friends. _

_ Ensui. _

_ Hitomi, _

_ When we see each other again, you’ll be even stronger than you were before. I will be too, of course. Temari decided to teach me Wind Release techniques, but I don’t feel like wandering around with a huge fan strapped to my back like she does, on top of a huge gourd for my sand. Ensui-sensei and I are working on a way to always have some of it around and infuse it with chakra at all times, to see if it does something that regular sand wouldn’t. _

_ Kankurō has started training with the Puppeteers Squadron, but he comes back here every night. He started decorating the walls and crafted pretty trinkets with the scraps of wood he’s got once he’s done creating a new puppet. He’s really good at sculpting animals, but we don’t have a lot of models here in the Desert. Would one of your friends like to draw some animals for us? I know you don’t like drawing much. _

_ I miss you, _

_ Gaara. _

Both messages appeared simultaneously as she was getting ready for the party her mother had thrown – rather a diner, though – but Hitomi liked taking care of her appearance in this body. She finished brushing her hair, styling them in a bun, her still a bit clumsy fingers fighting against the rubber band, then sat down at her desk to answer.

Unlike some students around her, Hitomi hadn’t lost time wondering what her main elemental affinity would be, or even what the secondary ones would be. She didn’t want any more than the others: each had their strengths and weaknesses, and each made its master capable of exploits. The affinities didn’t decide the role a shinobi would be best suited for, even if Lightning Release masters rarely went for spy work. Anyway, they were all suited for the frontlines, and  _ that _ was where Hitomi wanted to be.

Her answer written, she put her notebook away in a little handbag and went downstairs, wearing a pretty dress. Its pale pink shade was matched by the flower in her hair, and it complimented her skin in a way she really liked. Kurenai really had a knack for fashion and loved dressing her daughter up. The girl met her mother’s eyes and smiled before sitting next to Naruto, who was telling a story about paint and… socks? She didn’t want to know.

To her deepest surprise, Sarutobi Asuma knocked at the door a few minutes before dinner was scheduled to start. Hitomi only then noticed the extra plate her mother had gotten ready for him at the table. When she was done berating herself mentally for missing such an obvious detail, she wondered about their relationship. Were they already in love? She sometimes missed being an adult, or even a teenager. At seven, almost eight years old, she couldn’t really tell dirty jokes to tease them.

The holiday month before the Academy started again, for Hitomi, was spent training and honing her skills to a razor’s edge. She mostly worked with Hinata and Naruto, since both children didn’t want to spend time home. Naruto wasn’t allowed more than one night a week out of the orphanage, but it didn’t stop him from spending all his days in the Yūhi garden, working with his friends. As for Hinata, she had obtained the right to stay all weekends, thanks to heavy negotiation and subtle manipulation from Shikaku and Kurenai. It didn’t save either of them, but it softened their daily life to know that they were wanted and loved in at least one place in the village.

Hitomi had really expected her first day of the school year to be predictable, boring even. However, she had to admit that something was weird. Sakura didn’t show up at all that day, nor the following one. It wasn’t like her, not at all. She was extremely dedicated to her studies and, even when she was sick, she went to school. If she really couldn’t make it, then she contacted Hitomi and Shino at least to ask them to bring her notes on the lessons she had missed and the homework they had to do.

After class, Hitomi and Ino decided to investigate. Their arms heavy with their new Academy books, they walked to Sakura’s place, this time careful to avoid alleys and stick to the main streets of the village, even if it was a longer distance to walk. Hitomi still had a kunai strapped to her forearm and wasn’t making any effort to hide it. Her teachers knew why she wore it and they understood – or perhaps Kurenai had threatened them.

Sakura’s mother opened the door. She looked surprised to see them there for a second then her expression softened and she let them in, inviting them to the living room. They obeyed after taking off their shoes. Hitomi’s slippers were a bit too big, which made it hard to walk without tripping. And she  _ didn’t _ want to trip. It wasn’t dignified for a kunoichi. Yes, she still had five years of Academy before claiming that title, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t start behaving accordingly.

In the living room, they found Sakura sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table, which was almost disappearing under a mountain of books. Approaching, Hitomi realised they were mostly about medicine. She raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick look with Ino. The Haruno girl seemed surprised by her friends’ presence, as if she had expected to be forgotten.

“Hum, you’re not coming to the Academy anymore?” Hitomi asked. She felt uneasy despite her best efforts to relax. Sakura’s house was lovely, but it was a civilian home, full of dark corners and hiding spots. Even with her sensitivity to chakra, Hitomi didn’t feel safe in there. Ino to her side, she sat around the table too, crossing her legs under it. Her hands went there too, so she could pretend she was alright.

“I thought about it a lot during the holidays,” Sakura said. “With my parents, we decided that medical school would be a better fit for me. You don’t remember because you had passed out from the pain, but a medic nin came to heal our wounds, that time, at the hospital. He looked so self-assured and… Well, I think that’s what I want to do.”

Hitomi made her best effort to stay impassive, but her thoughts started to run full speed. Sakura wasn’t supposed to leave the Academy. She was supposed to become a ninja then bloom under Tsunade’s tutelage. Was it still possible to put woman and child on the same path? Sakura would become one of the best medics to ever exist if she became the Senju Princess’s apprentice. The world needed her, and Hitomi couldn’t take that away from her. She would find a way, if it didn’t happen on its own. She still had years to plan it.

“Do you like it?” Ino asked gently.

Sakura’s eyes gleamed with enthusiasm, giving them all the answers they needed. A bit of Hitomi’s unease disappeared then. After thanking her friend’s mother, who was bringing them refreshments, the girl listened as Sakura described the classes she had had so far. The school that taught the future medics was attached to the hospital and had been founded when Tsunade of the Sannin still lived in Konoha, under her loving care. She had written the program from the beginning to the end and had updated it as new discoveries, mostly hers, made the field evolve. She had only stopped when she had left the village; other, less talented doctors, medics and scientists had continued to take care of her pride and joy.

Tsunade should have been labelled a deserter the minute she had refused to report for duty after a summons from the Third. Only her reputation and her ties to the Senju family had allowed her to remain free, and out of the village. Despite that, she was still a hero in Konoha, especially amongst the kunoichi. It was the Princess, after all, who had developed the contraceptive all the women in the ranks took when their first periods happened to stop having them until they wanted to get pregnant – then, they only had to take the other injection that neutralised the first one. It made it all so easy.

Before that, kunoichi had been forbidden from doing any mission out of the village one week per month, just because the blood made them dangerously easy to track. The cramps, discomfort and mood swings weren’t as deadly but had also been at risk of compromising the most delicate missions. Tsunade had changed that system, giving back their full capabilities to her peers, in all circumstances.

After an hour spent chatting with Sakura, the two girls took their leave. Their day was far from over: in the heart of the Nara lands, Kurenai was waiting for them, a whole back-into-shape session planned to start the school year on a sound basis. Some of them had trained during the holidays, but others, like Shikamaru, had decided to rest so they would be up for the new challenges waiting for them. The two approaches were as good as the other. Hitomi was just always one to choose the restless path.

In second year, the Academy classes intensified but still stayed very theoretical. For the first time, students heard about chakra and how it was used to create ninjutsu techniques that defied the laws of nature, and sometimes even reality itself. Those lessons Hitomi already knew like the back of her hand – Ensui had made sure of it before teaching her how to control her own chakra.

She kept boredom at bay by trying to transcribe the books and stories she had loved from the Previous World in one of her infamous notebooks. She wasn’t at a loss for choices but had decided to pick the first Warriors stories to start. Adapting those wild cats’ stories to the codes of the shinobi world was quite easy, after all. She started working on it at the beginning of the school year, even though writing all day made her left-hand ache.

Shikamaru sometimes read what she was writing over her shoulder. He was trying to hide his interest, but his cousin knew him better than that – so much so, in fact, that when she finished the first book around December, she put it in his bedroom with a note instructing him to suggest edits. He never got to know how she had sneaked in while he was asleep without waking him up.

If she had lacked relational and material happiness in her previous life, she had known the serenity, the gentle and sincere surge of joy from reading stories that echoed deep inside her and equally brought her to tears and laughter. Those stories had never reached her new world, she had made sure to check. If  _ she _ could do it… Her memory was a perfect tool for that, after all. She wanted to pass on the felicity she had felt one page after the other, and that goal seemed so innocent, so devoid of the violence that would soon fill her shinobi life… Maybe this breath of fresh air would give her the strength, when she needed it, to turn her own heart cold and hard.

Her mind lost in her notebooks, Hitomi barely noticed the months go, until a terrible, heart-wrenching event reminded her that this world wouldn’t wait for her to be ready to fight back.


	23. The Night Of Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I'm late. I had a major surgery Monday and was still very out of it yesterday. I feel better now!

_ She had just spent the worst night of her life. What should have been a joyful celebration had ended up in blood, terror, and tears. She only wanted one thing: to go home, hug her little boys as hard as she could without hurting them, and finally close her eyes. This respite had been taken away from her, however, by the ANBU operatives who, instead of offering her the help and comfort she needed after seeing Biwako and Taji being murdered, had arrested her and treated her like a criminal. _

_ She had lost two comrades that night, and she didn’t know why she was still alive herself, didn’t know what the masked man had seen in her, what had restrained his blade. That didn’t matter, not really; what he’d seen in her hadn’t stopped him from taking the tiny, adorable baby her friend had just given birth to from her arms as she was cleaning him. She had stayed in the room where Kushina had gone through labour, alone amongst corpses, terrified, until the ANBU had arrived and taken her away. _

_ She only owed her freedom, after a few hours in a cold, dirty cell, to her husband’s influence. He was still there, sitting right next to her, a hand against her back as a rare public gesture of comfort and support. He was dignified, after all, so dignified, so proud. It was one of the things that had made her fall in love with him, even though their wedding had only been a political one in the beginning. _

_ In front of them, the Third breathed deeply then straightened up, his stare hard and serious. “I can’t let you have Naruto.” The sentence was short, cutting, and left the two Uchiha outraged. Mikoto’s heart broke as a rush of panic washed over her. She was Naruto’s godmother, for the Hermit’s sake! Minato had chosen the godfather, and Kushina had… She had chosen Mikoto to watch over her son if something happened to her. But even the formidable, terrifying jinchūriki hadn’t expected the Shinigami to take her so soon. _

_ Before she could open her mouth, try to defend her rights, the man that was once called a god amongst Shinobi talked again. “We still don’t know what happened, Mikoto-san. The only thing we know for sure is that you are the only survivor. Given those conditions, the Konoha Council and I refuse to put the jinchūriki in your care. We can’t guarantee you wouldn’t use it to release the Kyūbi on the village once more, it’s a safety measure, nothing more.” _

_ And suddenly, suddenly Mikoto started to hate that man, who was speaking about Naruto as if he was nothing but a weapon, with all she had. Her eyes burned with the effort to attempt to awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan. Had been burning without rest since last night. She had only fought against it because she knew how this new, terrible ability would only make her even more suspect in front of the rest of the village. The blooming of her hatred, violent and yet so quiet, almost pushed her over the edge despite her best efforts. “I’m his legal guardian now,” she tried. “You can’t…” _

_ “I can!” the Third snapped. “I can and I will. Jiraiya, the boy’s godfather, passed his responsibilities on me before leaving the village for a long trip. If you can make him change his mind, I’ll have to bend. Until then, however, you won’t go anywhere near Naruto.” _

_ For the first time since that dreadful night had started, Mikoto fell apart. It was discreet, because she was still a kunoichi, born and raised to become the Uchiha Lady since she was a child. A lukewarm, bitter tear ran down her pale cheek. She stiffened her hands on her knees to stop them from forming fists, her exhausted eyes looking at the delicate fingers and dirty nails – she hadn’t had the occasion to clean them, to wash away the blood and dirt. She forced herself to meet Fugaku’s eyes. _

_ And there, she saw it. _

_ The perfect reflection of her own hatred. _

_ That night, for the first time, Uchiha Mikoto followed her husband under the Nakato temple, the only building on the clan lands to have resisted the Demon Fox’s fury, and she listened to what the men had to say. For the first time, she became the traitor Konoha saw in her anyway. _

Hitomi woke up with a start, her eyes wide open. She shook so hard her teeth chattered, her breath shallow and painful. She had never had a dream that gave her such an impression of reality. She tried to appease her body and her mind and sat down on her bed, hugging her legs with her arms. She was terrified, in a way that even childhood nightmares had never managed to make her.

It took her long minutes to calm down enough to think coherently. The dream, of course, was waiting in her Library to be filed and analysed, but what was she even supposed to do with it? She knew Uchiha Mikoto had been friends with Uzumaki Kushina, but she didn’t know if they had been together during the labour that had led to the Kyūbi attacking Konoha, the death of its jinchūriki and of Hokage the Fourth. Yet, it seemed plausible. With great precautions, she filed the dream in an empty shelf of the section reserved for her new world. Her gut told her this shouldn’t be easily discarded.

In the morning, she was horrified to hear about the Uchiha Massacre, which had happened during the night. She burst into tears in her mother’s arms, her mind still full of the quiet, gentle hatred Mikoto had felt for the Third. Her hands tensed so hard against Kurenai’s back her joints ached, a sensation she perceived somewhere deep and far away inside her mind. It took her more than ten minutes to become calm enough to act.

She sat at her desk under her mother’s ever-watching stare and started writing, her cheeks still wet with tears. She hurt, hurt for Sasuke who was suddenly alone, hurt for Itachi who only wanted peace and abhorred violence, but her words, that at least she knew, were never more beautiful or truer than when her pain took control and spoke for her. At least, for once, they would be useful, really useful.

The funerals happened two days later. The Academy would only re-open the following day – two teachers and seven students were amongst the victims. The endless rows of coffins, some of them so  _ little _ , made Hitomi shiver and ache deep inside. She still held herself straight and strong, as dignified as a child could be in the de rigueur black kimono. Eight monks had come from the Fire Temple to lead the oration, their deep, solemn voices praying for each of the one hundred forty-nine victims to have eternal peace now that they had departed.

Hitomi noticed Sasuke standing in front of his parents’ coffins. He wasn’t crying, but his fists were so clenched it had to hurt, his dark and tired eyes staring at nothing in front of him. The girl knew him well enough to know that he wanted – and had to – say a few words at least, but didn’t know what to say. He had never been good with words, their beauty and righteousness. She, however, had that gift. Encouraged by her mother’s hand brushing against her back, she went to join him.

Long minutes passed, the children standing side by side in silence. It slowly attracted the adults’ attention, but they didn’t notice it. When Sasuke finally turned toward her, she offered him a sheet of paper with both hands. It was folded twice and covered in her handwriting on both sides – her gift to him. He took it in the same way, slightly bowing by reflex before unfolding it and starting to read for himself. His dark eyes widened slightly when he understood what she had given him and, if he didn’t smile, a quiet relief appeared on his features. It was enough, and so much more than he could have done by himself. Worthy of them. Respectfully, Hitomi took a step back as he straightened and spoke, reading the speech she had written in his name.

When the boy’s voice choked around the words, Hitomi put a gentle hand on his forearm, just for a moment. She hadn’t expected him to become a true friend in the months she had spent training and working with him, but they had too much in common for it to have gone any other way. She had spent many afternoons at his place studying for a test or working on the katas Ensui had taught her and that she had offered him in turn. She had seen Itachi’s features slowly grow gaunt with anguish, the tender and reserve affection uniting Mikoto and Fugaku. She had seen it all, and her heart was mourning too.

Several hours later, when the ceremony had ended and the guests had started to leave, Kurenai approached the two children, noticing their linked hands and the way they drew comfort from each other’s presence. Sasuke’s free hand was clasped around the oration Hitomi had gifted him – a gesture the young mother approved of entirely. She knelt down to look them in the eyes, extending a hand to gently pat the boy’s shoulder. “I spoke to the Hokage,” she announced in a soft voice. “If you want, you can come live with us from now on. We’re very extended family, but you’re still my blood and I would be honoured to take you as my ward.”

Sasuke looked astonished by her proposal. Internally, Hitomi was too. She knew it hadn’t happened that way in the canon, knew that Sasuke had simply lived alone because in the Hokage’s mind it was totally fine to let seven years old kids live alone. When her friend looked at her, as if asking for her approval, she nodded with a quiet smile. Only then did he answer, almost choking on his own words. “I-I accept. Thank you, Yūhi-san. You have no idea how much it means to me.” So dignified, even in sorrow.

“Call me Kurenai, please. Come, let’s go find some food. It’s getting late and I’m sure you’re both hungry.”

Two stomachs growling answered that question. With a sad little smile, the young woman stood up and took both children to a civilian Akimichi restaurant in the area. The meal was quiet, the discussion focusing mostly on Sasuke’s room and how he wanted to decorate it to really make it his own. The topic was voluntarily light. Hitomi sometimes intervened to suggest a shade or pattern that she knew her friend liked.

That night, the boy joined her in her room in the middle of the night, his cheeks drenched in tears. Supposing he probably had had a nightmare – who wouldn’t, in his place? – she didn’t say a word, simply moving sideway in her bed to give him space. He crawled between the warm sheets, as silent as she was, taking refuge in the open arms ready for him, then fell back asleep.

The following days were a challenge. Sasuke, as was to be expected, was deeply affected by his brother’s betrayal and by what he had seen during that wretched night. His visits to Hitomi’s bed became a habit, since it didn’t really disturb her. Sasuke was an agitated sleeper, but she managed to ignore it, sometimes by going to her Library instead of really sleeping. The most important, for her, was that he was getting better little by little. When the third year started, he was able to sleep in his bed all night again.

Hitomi’s nightmares continued to appear every few days to put her in a state of constant anxiety. She didn’t see the past anymore but the future, little pieces of it that, as she well knew, hadn’t been modified by her actions yet. Those dreams reminded her of why she sometimes had difficult decisions to take and how long the path still was under her feet.

Third year began at top speed with Mizuki’s class. Up to that point, he had only made them work on ways to improve their stamina, speed, strength and flexibility without ever applying it to fighting in any way, but it was time for them to learn the basic Konohajin katas. They were different from the ones Ensui had taught Hitomi, the ones she had in turn taught to her group of friends, but they still had an advantage on other students, since they already knew how to work on that kind of exercises.

Hitomi fell into a comfortable routine week after week. She didn’t really like the katas taught in the Academy but mastered them as soon as Mizuki showed them to the class. She didn’t really see what they could offer her: their style was very flat, predictable, polyvalent but without a true advantage in any aspect of a fight. The ones Ensui had taught her were a better fit for her, by far: thanks to them, she had learned to target her opponent’s weak spots and vital points, then back away before they could reciprocate. Fighting like that required astonishing speed she was still far from reaching and a lot of agility, but very little strength. A perfect combination for her.

Before Hitomi realised it, the fourth year had started. Now, the Fellowship, as she liked to call it, was established in the Academy, and the three groups had been reduced to two, still separated by levels. The taijutsu class gathered all the students now and, one month after the beginning of the school year, Mizuki announced that it was time for them to start sparring. Hitomi felt ready and self-assured. She had trained and only feared fighting against Hinata or Ino – because, of course, the teacher had separated girls and boys, as if there was such a gap in strength that pitching them against each other wouldn’t have been good for anything.

The way he organised these duels was obnoxious, Hitomi picked upon it instantly: the teacher picked two weak children for the first match, then selected a student from the ones who hadn’t fought yet to spar against the winner. He claimed he was doing it at random but, very often, the matches opposed a weak and a strong student. He used an Earth Clone to keep an eye on the girls while he watched over the boys.

Hitomi smelled trouble when Aimi overcame her opponent, another civilian girl, and Hinata was called to fight next. The girl couldn’t stand to be excluded from the Fellowship and, rather than trying to join it by being nice and polite, she verbally attacked everyone of its members every chance she got. She especially picked on Hinata, the only girl who didn’t fight back. Most often, Hitomi or Ino stepped in and sent Aimi away with a cutting remark. Seeing their friend climb on the stage the teacher had built with an Earth Release technique made the two girls nervous. Aimi had a violent, vicious fighting style for a civilian, and Hinata… Hinata wasn’t there yet. She hadn’t yet cultivated the aggressiveness she needed to fight against that kind of opponent.

Hitomi clenched her teeth through the whole fight, her red eyes fixed on the little bully who took such obvious pleasure in hurting her friend, one hit after the other. Hinata tried to fight back, but she had never tried to fight outside of katas or friendly spars amongst the Fellowship. Even when she parried punches and kicks, she couldn’t quite hide the pain it made her feel.

And then Hinata tripped and fell on one knee with a pained yelp. One of her cheeks was red and slightly swollen, and the other sported a deep clawing mark. Her hands had taken the worst of it, though. She probably wouldn’t be able to use them for hand seals in Iruka’s class the next day. She opened her mouth to yield, but didn’t even have the time to articulate the word before Aimi’s hand struck her already painful cheek, the impact violent enough to make her head tilt to the side.

An icy anger invaded Hitomi’s mind as she watched her best friend fall unconscious after a last, vicious punch to the temple. She and Ino were the only ones who hadn’t fought yet, on the girls’ side. When the clone called her, Hitomi tried to stay impassive, wiping the blood on Hinata’s split lip before dragging Hinata to the edge of the stage as gently as she could so Ino could take her and wake her up. Only then did she look up and meet Aimi’s eyes, which were suddenly nervous. For the first time in her life, a bit of killing intent bloomed on her skin like a poisonous flower, turning the air around them heavy and stale.

She didn’t care.

Blood called for blood, after all.


End file.
